


Tri: Integrity Lens

by ahiddenpath



Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Adventure, Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02, Digimon Adventure tri.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:34:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 39,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26307889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahiddenpath/pseuds/ahiddenpath
Summary: Sequel to Growing Up with You (available on FFN).  Follows Digimon Adventure Tri primarily through the eyes of OC Anami Eimi and Izumi Koushiro.  This story is fantastic for you if you love Koushiro, or if you'd enjoy a retelling of Tri that emphasizes Chosen proactiveness.
Relationships: Izumi Koushirou | Izzy Izumi/Original Character(s)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 14





	1. Saikai: Kuwagamon Attacks

**Tri: Integrity Lens**

****

_Saikai: Kuwagamon Attacks_

Eimi had never been to such a fancy restaurant. The doors swung open when she and the Izumis approached, held by men in suits. She blinked, eyes oversaturated by the large, bright room and the glittering chandelier over the reception podium. The delicious scents of French cuisine wafted towards her. 

She hovered by Koushiro and his parents, feeling intimidated and out of place. Their host, an older, handsome man, led them to a square table with a linen cloth. He helped Kae into her seat and said something Eimi couldn't parse. After a few seconds, it registered as French with a Japanese accent. Koushiro responded slowly, with a heavier accent, and Eimi nearly tripped on a table leg.

Stunned, she sat, quite missing that the host meant to help her next. When he departed, she leaned into Koushiro as he took the seat beside hers.

"You don't speak French," she hissed. 

He offered a sheepish smile. "I prepared with a phrase book for tonight."

Eimi leaned back to make way for a server bearing a water carafe. How long, she wondered, had Koushiro studied his phrase book? Had he perused it for an afternoon and produced passable French? For years, her language skills had surpassed his. But they were first years in high school now, and the older he grew, the more Koushiro's brain expanded. It was like watching the Winchester Mystery house growing and rearranging in its heyday, but with fewer occult references.

Not knowing what to say, Eimi nodded and opened her leather-bound menu... Which was entirely in French. She swallowed a sigh that might have tarnished Koushiro's pleasure. It was Kae and Masami's wedding anniversary, and he had taken pains to make it special. Although Koushiro would never admit it, he had poured over restaurant reviews for days, comparing menus, ambiance, and service. And apparently, when the data supported a French establishment, he brushed up on the language.

Koushiro’s adoptive parents made it clear that he didn't owe them anything a biological child wouldn't. This didn't penetrate his natural sense of gratitude, and here they sat, dressed up and smiling indulgently at Koushiro. Everyone at the table knew that he was overdoing it... except for him. 

Eimi caught Kae's eyes and had to fight down a laugh. No one would call Koushiro out on his excessiveness; he was being too damned cute.

Koushiro opened his menu and blinked. "Ah, hmm. Well, I can translate this."

That familiar look of pride and wonder transformed Kae and Masami's faces. Eimi stared at the chandelier overhead, struggling against laughter once more. She admired Koushiro's ability to pick up conversational French on a whim, but she was objective enough to acknowledge his failure to foresee the language barrier as an issue for his guests... If only just.

Koushiro read them the menu, and Eimi relaxed, focusing on his calm, crisp voice. She was beginning to enjoy herself when Koushiro's mobile rang, interrupting his conversation with a waiter.

Koushiro's gaze bounced between his guests, the waiter, and the phone. "Er- pardon me." After a pause, he repeated himself in French to the waiter, then opened his flip phone. In typical Koushiro fashion, he hunched his shoulders, cupped a hand against the receiver, and whispered, making himself as inconspicuous as possible.

"Sora-san? Is something the matter?" Eimi leaned closer, and Koushiro shifted towards her, holding the phone between them. While Sora occasionally called the Chosen to check in, most of the team’s everyday chatter took place via text and chat programs. Some part of every Chosen jumped to attention when one of them called, just in case.

Eimi couldn't hear everything, but it sounded like Sora was talking about Taichi and Yamato. _Is this about the soccer game and the concert being at the same time?_

After a few exchanges, Koushiro scowled and lowered the phone. "The call cut off," he explained. "Ah- pardon me- Mom, what would you like to order?"

When the waiter left, Eimi said, "I hope Sora's okay. I wonder why you got disconnected?"

Koushiro shook his head. "I don't know. I'm sure she'll call again if she needs to."

Masami turned the topic, and Eimi followed his lead. The meal passed pleasantly, and before long, the waiter brought out a strawberry-covered cake, labeled "Happy Anniversary" in English. Eimi covered her grin with her fingertips. They were Japanese customers speaking broken French and being served a cake with English text. _What a mess! And a whole cake for four people?!_

Kae was complimenting the dessert when movement caught Eimi's eye. A group of men in suits was advancing towards their table. It was hard to tell, since they wore sunglasses, but they seemed to be staring at Koushiro and her.

Eimi grabbed Koushiro's wrist beneath the table. The men came closer, and she stood, half pulling him with her. "Eimi," he protested. Then he followed her gaze, saw the suits, and rose.

The restaurant faded from Eimi’s memory, and even from her senses. She was suddenly in a nightmare sequence, stripped down to its key players: herself, Koushiro, and the unknown men.

Ever since Vamdemon’s siege of Odaiba, Eimi wondered if, someday, the government would approach the Chosen. At the very least, she expected to be questioned. Somehow, that hadn’t happened yet. She assumed it was because Yamato and Takeru’s parents used their news and press contacts in conjunction with laws protecting minors to shield them, while Koushiro, Ken, and Miyako purged evidence of them from the internet. But her instincts had whispered that the government would show up when it most benefited them.

Time was woozy, and the men seemed to approach for an endless interval. When they reached speaking distance at last, the closest began, “Izumi Koushiro-san, Anami Eimi-san. There’s been a… disturbance. We need your help. Our people are escorting your comrades to the site.”

Koushiro shifted, blocking Eimi from the suits. “We’re in the middle of celebrating my parents’ anniversary.”

The man bowed. “We apologize, and we’ve already paid your bill. I’m afraid this is a matter of national security. We can’t afford delays.”

With intense effort, Eimi pried her fingers off Koushiro’s wrist and placed her hand on the back of her chair. Her purse hung from the corner. The logical part of her knew that, if these really were government agents, using the self-defense items on her keyring would make the situation much worse. But those quiet instincts were screaming now, warning her that no one had offered identification.

“Excuse me,” Masami said. Everyone turned to him in unison, but his mild, composed expression remained intact. “Who are you people?” Eimi released a breath, grateful that Masami had maintained enough calm to ask important questions.

The man who seemed to be in charge tilted his head, indicating the restaurant. The other diners stared at their party, some holding forgotten utensils in front of their faces. “All I can tell you here is that we handle digital disturbances.”

A shiver ran down Eimi’s spine, a cold tingle that made her want to arch her back like a cat, and maybe even hiss. “I don’t encourage my son to put himself in the power of strangers,” Masami said. Eimi nodded and grabbed her purse.

She couldn’t see his eyes behind the sunglasses, but the man’s forehead indented with worry lines. “I understand that this is unsettling. We can’t force you to come.” He paused and tapped the ear piece lodged in his canal. “But if it helps, I’m told your partners are already on site.”

Eimi’s hand found Koushiro’s. She was freezing, but he was sweaty. Their fingers huddled in a gross, clammy tangle. He shifted enough to look at her, and a thick, red eyebrow rose in a questioning gesture.

Eimi blinked, then fought the urge to smack her forehead. She nodded, then closed her eyes, trusting the Izumis to protect her. She drew a deep breath, desperate to quiet the nauseous, staccato beat of fear clanging along her nerves. Over a distance, anxiety impeded her ability to call out to Galemon.

Eimi’s digimon partner, Galemon, resembled an Amazon river dolphin, with their distinct pink hue. Unlike the other partner digimon, she lacked attack attributes, and utilized invisible shields to protect her allies. And because of the haphazard way Galemon was created, she shared a mental and emotional link with Eimi.

When Eimi was on earth and Galemon was in the Digital World, the strange bond connecting them was stretched so thin that it almost snapped. But slowly, as time passed and Galemon’s powers grew, Eimi noticed the occasional hum of a thought, the ripple of a mood, even across the rift that separated their worlds. It was rare, and she had to be listening, but there was no mistaking that precious presence. 

It took some time for the clamor of panic to fade enough to sense the stillness inside herself. She imagined an opal arch with rainbow light shimmering beneath its curve, hovering between a calm sea and a blue sky swirling with clouds. This was how she visualized her connection to Galemon, the gate where her digimon could enter her mind. It didn’t work both ways; the best Eimi could do was picture herself curled up at the door if she missed Galemon and wanted to feel closer to her.

Eimi imagined herself walking on air, approaching the arch, and placing a hand upon it. It was smooth and cool, like stone. She paused, uncertain, dearly wanting to contact her partner, but fearing disappointment. With a pounding heart and faltering voice, she called, “Gale?”

There was a pause, then a sense of stirring, awakening. Disorientation followed, similar to the confusion of hopping on a bicycle for the first time in years and not quite recalling what to do, idioms nonwithstanding. Then, that beloved spirit rushed to the arch.

Galemon’s voice was a whisper in her mind, struggling to cross the distance between them. _Girl?_

Bright, wild joy surged, singing from both ends of their connection. Distantly, Eimi knew she was smiling like an idiot, but there was no helping it. She directed her thoughts and emotions to the opal arch, to their link. _Gale!_ _Are you on earth? Are you okay?_

_Yes. Trouble._

Panic built beneath the exhilaration of contact from her partner after more than a year of separation. _Where are you? Are the others with you?_

After some fumbling, an image filled Eimi’s mind, showing a plane in a loading area. She almost described it out loud for Koushiro’s benefit, but decided against it. If the agents took them anywhere that wasn’t an airport, she and Koushiro would escape.

Another picture followed, showing a few partner digimon. In the background, Piyomon ran up to Sora, whose expression radiated happiness and warmth. More men in suits loitered about, standing beside black cars.

_Are you in danger? Stay close to Sora. Watch out for the men in suits._

A general sense of agreement penetrated their link. _Come_ , Galemon said. Her presence faded, signaling that she was no longer concentrating on their connection.

Eimi opened her eyes and was almost surprised to see the restaurant. The agents were staring, and she mentally cursed. She avoided advertising her link to Galemon in front of strangers, but it was her only way of verifying what the agents were saying.

“I believe them,” she said, trying to remain vague. Koushiro opened his mouth, most likely to request details, but Eimi shook her head.

“Alright,” he replied. “In that case, we’ll go. Mom, Dad, I’m truly sorry about this.”

Kae managed a worried smile. “It’s alright. You two take care of things, but be careful, okay?” After securing agreement from them, Kae turned to the head agent. “If anything happens to my kids while they’re in your care, I’ll have words with you.”

The man hesitated, likely thrown off by the challenge to his authority. Begrudgingly, Eimi’s opinion of him increased when he deferred to Kae with a bow. Eimi threw her purse strap over her shoulder, said goodbye to Kae and Masami, and followed Koushiro and the agents out of the restaurant. The men led them to a black sedan like the ones in Galemon’s snapshots.

Eimi froze when an agent opened a door for her. She had seen enough movies to know that getting into a car with a stranger was a Bad Idea, but what choice did she have? Galemon and the others were waiting for them. She entered the vehicle, and Koushiro slid in beside her. Eimi scrunched up against him and grabbed his hand.

She had no idea who these people were or what was going on, but at least Koushiro was with her.

**XXX**

Koushiro tried to flex his fingers, but Eimi was holding on too tight. His mind whirled with speculation and possibilities, but Eimi was likely focused on her emotional response. Her free hand clutched her key chain, a mini self-defense arsenal. Ever since she returned to Odaiba after her time in the United States, Eimi carried pepper spray, a personal alarm, and a hunk of hard plastic that supposedly functioned as a weapon in a pinch. Koushiro wasn’t sure how that worked, and he hoped he wouldn’t find out soon.

He tried to meet Eimi’s eye, hoping to offer a smile and gauge her mood, but she was staring through her window. He realized that she might be talking to Galemon, so he shifted his attention to the pair of agents in the driver and passenger seats.

“Where are we going?” he asked.

The passenger glanced over his shoulder. “Haneda airport. We’ve received reports of a digimon attack there. Our people are transporting the rest of the Chosen to the site.”

Eimi twitched and turned away from the window, much to Koushiro’s relief. He and Eimi often gleaned different information from the same stimulus, so it was comforting to know that she was listening. “What kind of attack? Where did the digimon come from?”

The agent turned towards the windshield. “That’s all I can tell you, but you’ll see soon enough.”

Eimi’s upper lip drew back, and Koushiro squeezed her hand. She was already on the defensive, slammed into alert by this strange situation. Any lack of cooperation from these men would upset her further. He leaned into her, angling for a distraction. “What did Galemon say?” he whispered. 

Some of the tension leaked from her stiff shoulders. “She said that she and some of the partner digimon are at an airport. I saw Tentomon, and Sora and Piyomon were already there when we left the restaurant. Whatever’s happening, I think Gale is focused on it. She’s not responding much, and I’m picking up her anxiety.”

Despite being practically kidnapped from his parents’ anniversary dinner, Koushiro grinned. All gates to the Digital World had been closed for over a year, impervious to his attempts at communication and travel. When their partner digimon showed up unexpectedly, trouble usually followed. But being with Tentomon was always worth it.

The ride passed mostly in silence, with occasional radio chatter from the front seat. Koushiro listened, but he suspected that all useful information was being relayed over the agents’ ear pieces. The sun set as they drove, and it was nearly nightfall when the car came to a stop.

Eimi hopped out of the vehicle with Koushiro at her heels. Galemon and Tentomon hovered a few feet away, and Eimi’s delighted cry broke the eerie silence in what should have been a bustling airport loading bay. They ran to their digimon, and Koushiro caught Tentomon in a hug. Talons landed on his shoulder, while those stubby digits closed around his upper arms.

“Koushiro-han! You’re so tall!” Tentomon’s face wasn’t well equipped for emoting, but the quaver in his voice betrayed his feelings. Koushiro’s embrace tightened.

“I have grown. I’m so glad to see you.” Koushiro wanted to ask questions, but tears were streaming down Eimi’s cheeks as she stood forehead-to-forehead with Galemon. They were silent, eyes shut, suggesting that they were communicating over their link. Koushiro waited, but his curiosity soon overpowered his tact.

“Tentomon, what’s going on? Where are Sora-san and the other digimon?”

Tentomon rose a few inches and waved a talon. “This way.” Koushiro followed him around a luggage delivery vehicle and more black cars. Sora, Yamato, and Takeru stood in a tight group with most of the partner digimon around them.

“Where’s Agumon?” Eimi asked. Tentomon waved his talons and arms in distress.

“We’re not sure. It seems like we entered your world through… rips? We recognized airplanes from your world, so we jumped through. We ended up here, except for Agumon.”

Yamato lifted a hand in greeting, and Koushiro waved back. “Hey Koushiro, Eimi. Have you heard from Taichi?”

Koushiro pulled his cell phone from his pocket and sighed. “I can’t get a signal.”

“Same,” Takeru replied. “I tried to text Hikari-chan, but I can’t get through.”

Sora smiled, but concern was evident in her eyes. Surprisingly, Eimi hadn’t greeted anyone; she was watching the agents, who stood just out of earshot. Koushiro’s stomach sank when he realized that the Chosen and the digimon were surrounded by strangers, boxed in by people and cars.

“This might be an odd time, but why are you two dressed up?” Sora asked. “I love your dress, Eimi-chan.”

Koushiro glanced at his girlfriend, who wore a fitted red dress. Her long brown hair was up in a bun, with stray strands already coming loose. She was tall, curvy, and soft, with a nondescript face, save for her expressive brown eyes. These were currently staring at the agents, and Eimi blinked and shifted her attention to Sora with obvious effort. “Uh, we were at dinner with Koushiro’s parents for their anniversary.”

“Oh, no. I’m sorry that got interrupted. Koushiro-kun, where did you find that vest?”

Takeru snorted, and Sora shot him a look. Baffled, Koushiro replied, “I’m afraid my mother bought it for me.” Takeru made another strange noise that Koushiro guessed was a swallowed laugh. He hastened to change the subject.

“Tentomon, you said that you and the others leaped through rips? Can you tell me more?”

“I wish I could,” Tentomon replied. “The Digital World just… tore in front of me. I saw your world through the gap. I wanted to see you, so I flew through.”

Patamon nodded from on top of Takeru’s head... Or, rather, his fedora. “Me, too!”

Koushiro lifted his fist to his chin. “How strange… Could the Digital World be unstable?”

“What would that mean?” Yamato asked. 

Koushiro reached for his backpack, but remembered that he hadn’t worn it to the restaurant. He swallowed a frustrated sound. He almost always carried his laptop in case of a Digital World emergency, and here he was, armed with a bow tie instead of his tools. “I don’t know. Has anyone seen the threat that the agents mentioned?”

“I haven’t noticed anything,” Yamato replied. “But they evacuated the airport.”

“Which is a big deal,” Eimi murmured. “Delaying travel is no joke. That implies that the agents can foresee when trouble is coming… And that they track our movements.”

Takeru smacked a fist into his open palm. “You’re right! I assumed that they knew Aniki would be at his concert, but if they found you two at a restaurant…”

“We’re being tracked?” Sora placed her hand on Piyomon’s head. The digimon turned huge, adoring eyes up at her human.

“Don’t worry, Sora. It will be okay.”

“Most likely, we’re being tracked via our cell phones,” Koushiro said. “Everyone is carrying one, right?”

Yamato tsked. “You’re right. So, they really are government agents? That’s what you guys think, too, right?”

“Ours did mention the phrase ‘national security,’” Eimi offered. Koushiro felt his eyes widening. He had missed that tidbit while questions screamed in his brain.

He wanted to ask if she remembered any other details, but another black car was pulling up. The passenger door opened, and Hikari stepped out. Tailmon surged across the concrete and threw herself into Hikari’s arms.

Koushiro focused on the group, offering the girl privacy. “That leaves Taichi-san, Jyou-san, and Mimi-san, plus the rest of Takeru-kun’s group.”

Palmon tugged on his pant leg. “Do you think Mimi can make it? America is far away, right?”

“Oh, Palmon…” Compassion poured from Sora’s face. “I’m sorry… It is very far away.”

“Sorry, Palmon,” Gomamon said. “But Jyou should be here, right?”

“Do you think he has another mock test?” Yamato asked. Takeru shrugged.

“I want to see Jyou!” Gomamon cried. “I remember where he lives.”

Eimi picked Gomamon up and rubbed his head. “Gomamon, please. It’s dangerous. There are lots of cars and people, and someone could grab you. If Jyou-senpai doesn’t come, we’ll take you to him; Koushiro and I live in the same building as the Kidos. Besides, I don’t think any of us should be alone with these agents around.”

“They might be here to help,” Sora pointed out. 

“Maybe,” Eimi replied, “but we can’t take risks. Why did they show up now? How long have they been watching us? Koushiro, you have a lot of contacts. Has anyone mentioned a group like this?”

“I would have told you,” Koushiro replied. Eimi nodded.

The beam of headlights drew Koushiro's gaze, and he watched another black sedan approach. Relief swept over the group, almost as palpable as a breeze, when Taichi and Agumon emerged.

The driver opened his door, and Sora and Yamato shared startled looks. "Isn't that the calligraphy instructor?" Yamato asked.

"Nishijima-sensei," Sora confirmed.

Koushiro blinked. He didn't take calligraphy, but the man did look familiar. Eimi crossed her arms and scowled. "So we're being watched at school, too... I _really_ don't like this."

Koushiro rubbed at the pang of pain in his forehead. He hadn't pieced it together as quickly as Eimi, but she was right. Teaching at their school was an excellent cover to track five Chosen.

Taichi jogged to the group with Agumon at his heels. "Guys- what's happening? A Kuwagamon attacked Odaiba, and then Nishijima-sensei took us here!"

"We're not sure," Sora began. Her words came to an abrupt end as flashes of light burst in the night sky. 

Koushiro tried to grab his laptop again, but his hand met air where his backpack should have been. Flashes like lightening blinded him, and when his eyes adjusted, he saw a rip in space, highlighted by angry red light.

"Koushiro-han, that's a tear!" Whatever else Tentomon tried to say was lost beneath the cry of two Kuwagamon, who catapulted through the rip.

There was a rush of gasps and footsteps as the Chosen rallied, each one instinctively digging for their digivices and making room for evolutions. Distantly, Koushiro heard Eimi shout something about Gomamon, but he was focused on the Kuwagamon.

Soon, a team of adult level digimon filled the airport bay, minus Palmon, who hovered near Sora, and Gomamon, who had vanished. The digimon split into teams to fight the Kuwagamon.

"Careful!" Taichi shouted. "These are stronger than normal Kuwagamon."

Koushiro's head whipped around with such force that his neck cracked. "What? Why?!"

"Wish I knew," Taichi growled. "Greymon's fight on Odaiba got... ugly." Taichi's brow was deeply furrowed. The focus and confidence he usually displayed in battle was replaced with rapidly-moving eyes, stiff shoulders, and tightly-curled fists.

"Eimi, you and Mayumon need to protect the airport," Taichi said. 

"We're already on it," she replied. Mayumon, Galemon's adult form, was vaguely shaped like a dainty camel. Blue, willowy legs with golden hooves supported a body obscured by billowing clouds. A long, graceful neck rose from the strata, ending in a head with spaniel ears and a relaxed face with heavy-lidded eyes. Mayumon stood away from the fight, ready to protect her allies and the environment with shields.

Koushiro watched the battle, desperately trying to notice anything that could explain what was happening. What stood out the most was the unusual strength and violence of the Kuwagamon.

"Do they seem... unstable?" Koushiro asked.

"I think I see what you mean," Takeru replied. "But Kuwagamon are usually pretty blood-thirsty, so I'm not sure..."

Another round of blinding lights swallowed the airport. Koushiro heard the third Kuwagamon before he saw it, a horrible shriek that threatened to puncture his eardrums. In some small corner of his mind, he was a lost, confused child, running from one huge monster with a host of smaller ones in tow. Without thinking, he grabbed Eimi's hand.

"It's okay," Eimi murmured, but the tension in her voice betrayed her nerves. 

Greymon and Garurumon broke off from other fights to intercept the new Kuwagamon, who flew straight towards the Chosen. "Taichi!" Greymon roared. "This is the one from earlier!"

"Shit! Is it following us?" Taichi demanded. 

"Who knows. They really are strong, though," Yamato said. "Six adult digimon versus three should be a shutout, but we're struggling. And Mayumon can't absorb all the overflow damage..."

Koushiro wanted to ask Eimi how Mayumon was doing, but a glance at her silenced the question. Her eyes darted from the three battling groups to the airport and all of the people. A droplet of sweat rolled down her forehead, drawing attention to her rapt expression. Koushiro knew that she was directing Mayumon over their link, struggling to allocate her digimon's finite strength as strategically as possible.

"Not much juice left," she said. "We could try perfect level, but we won't be able to use shields during the evolution."

The earth trembled as Kuwagamon slammed Greymon onto the ground. The concrete shattered on contact, sending shockwaves outward. Eimi swayed, and Koushiro grabbed her elbow. "We might have to consider a rotation to cover evolutions-"

In the distance, Angemon struck Kuwagamon with his staff. The enormous digimon plummeted into an air control tower, smashing a support leg. Steel groaned as the tower tipped, struggling against its own weight. Nearby agents scattered, and Tailmon baited Kuwagamon away from them.

"We need to end this _now,_ " Taichi said. As if in response, Birdramon and Kabuterimon landed finishing blows on a Kuwagamon, while Tailmon and Angemon took out theirs.

Only the Kuwagamon that Taichi had fought earlier remained. The digimon surrounded it, but they were all worn from fighting. Koushiro thought furiously, trying to conceive of a strategy that wouldn't endanger the facility, but nothing came to him.

Then, as Greymon and Garurumon hit Kuwagamon with simultaneous attacks, another streak of light burst. The world seemed to unzip in its wake, leaving a reddish black maw hanging in the sky. An enormous hand reached through the void, grabbed Kuwagamon, and pulled it through the tear in space.

Then, quietly, neatly, the rip fused back together, leaving no traces.

The silence that followed was nearly deafening. "Um," Hikari hazarded. "E-everyone saw... _that_ … right?"

"Yikes. Was that a digimon?" Takeru asked. "It had to be, right?"

Yamato scowled. "Hell of a big one. The hand looked armored..."

It might have been Koushiro's imagination, but Taichi's voice seemed higher-pitched than usual. "Koushiro? Any ideas?"

Dumbstruck, Koushiro shook his head. Eimi cupped her forehead with the air of someone struggling to prevent her brain from exploding. "If whatever is attached to that hand can control these tears from the Digital World to earth, then we’re in trouble,” she said. “What if some poor human walks into the Digital World? Or vice versa... A digimon could be hit by a car or captured..."

Sora flinched, then held her hands out in front of her. "Let's not borrow trouble. I think we have enough already."

Eimi turned towards an agent advancing on their group. "Yeah," she grunted.

The digimon regressed to their child stages and swarmed the Chosen. "Is everyone alright?" Sora asked.

Eimi poked Koushiro's shoulder, and he followed her gaze to a car pulling towards them. The passenger door opened, and a familiar-looking girl leaped out. Koushiro blinked, then squinted, sure that his eyes were playing tricks on him. It _couldn't_ be Mimi... right?

But then, if anyone could appear on the opposite hemisphere like magic, it was her.

"Yoo-hoo!" she cried, waving to the group. "Mimi's here!"

"Are you serious?" Taichi whispered, his tone edging on awe. Palmon shrieked with glee and rushed past them, throwing herself into Mimi's arms.

"Mimi! Mimi! I knew you'd make it somehow!"

"Of course!" Mimi laughed. She brushed a petal aside and smooched Palmon’s head. 

Koushiro's gaze bounced from Mimi to the ravaged airport to the spot where the gargantuan hand had grabbed Kuwagamon. Although his mind surged like an electric storm, he realized that he was exhausted.

Eimi's hand brushed his, and he entwined their fingers. He calmed, reassured that the Chosen would face this together. "We need to contact Daisuke-kun and the others," he murmured.

"All hands on deck," Eimi agreed. “I wonder why these agents didn’t bring them here?” She removed her phone from her purse and flipped it open. “I’ll text them when I get a signal… Jyou-senpai, too… I hope Gomamon’s okay, he ran off while we were distracted…”

“Hey, everyone!” Mimi shouted. She held up an unzipped backpack full of small, colorful packets. “I have snacks! Thanks for your hard work!”

The digimon flocked to Mimi, clamoring for treats. Koushiro grinned, enjoying a rush of comforting nostalgia. No matter how much time passed, no matter how many strange events occurred, some things never changed. 

The Chosen wandered towards Mimi, on the off chance that the digimon hadn’t devoured all of her snacks.

**About This Story**

Hey all! It’s me, Hidden. I wanted to provide some background/translation notes about this story.

First of all, this story takes place after the events of [_Growing Up with You_](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8569684/1/Growing-Up-with-You) (but before the “three years later” epilogue in the final scene). GUWY is a complete story that follows OC Anami Eimi and Izumi Koushiro through the events of Digimon Adventure, Digimon Adventure 02, and some of the movies. While there is a romantic relationship (KoushiroxEimi) in Tri: Integrity Lens, it's not the driving force of the story.

_Translation Notes_

If you’ve read GUWY, you’ll know that it’s a logistic mess! I aged up the Chosen, placed many of them in the same school year, used a hodge-podge of Japanese and English dub digimon names and terms, messed up honorifics…

In this story, all of that will be corrected. However, I will use a few English dub digimon names:

-Tapirmon instead of Bakumon (to prevent me from confusing Bakumon and Bakemon)

-Piximon instead of Piccolomon (because all I can see is DBZ’s Piccolo’s disembodied head flying around)

-Wizardmon instead of Wizarmon (because I know I will forget and be inconsistent)

Also, because I aged up the Chosen in GUWY, the older kids were already in high school when 02 ended. In this story, Eimi, Koushiro, and Mimi are first years in high school, and over a year has passed since they’ve seen the digimon because the gates have been closed. So… There’s a time inconsistency between GUWY and this story that I’m going to have to ask you to please ignore.

_Structure and Update Schedule_

I am following Tri, but changing details and moving/adding/ignoring events as I see fit, similar to GUWY. I will write material to cover a single Tri movie at a time, split that movie’s content into roughly 4,000-6,000 word updates, and post an update every other week. There could be a hiatus in the story between movie coverage, during which I will either be working on the next Tri movie, or on another fic. The _Saikai_ movie has six parts written and ready to go, so **you will see updates every other week for the next 12 weeks**.

_AO3 Vs FFN_

I am posting this story to both FFN and AO3, but I encourage you to read it on AO3. My username is also [ahiddenpath](https://www.fanfiction.net/u/4127083/A-Hidden-Path) there (and on [Tumblr](https://ahiddenpath.tumblr.com/), which you should check out if you’re interested in my Digimon Adventure: reboot episode reactions, general digimon fandom nonsense, headcanons, sneak peeks, and a huge collection of reblogged and neatly tagged digimon art). The AO3 version will feature Tri screenshots, my art, and the occasional link to music and whatever else might catch my fancy. Don’t miss out on a more robust reading experience!

Also, future chapters will have more art of the canon Chosen! I had to focus on drawing Eimi, since she's an OC and is being introduced here, but I'm pumped to draw the Chosen!

Thank you so much for reading this story! Remember to review; writing these stories is a _huge_ undertaking and a labor of love. Encouragement means the world to fanfic writers.


	2. Saikai: Home

**Tri: Integrity Lens**

_Saikai: Home_

Eimi and Koushiro exited the large vehicle that the agents had provided to transport the Chosen and the digimon home. Eimi waved to everyone remaining in the car, then slid out. She, Koushiro, Tentomon, and Galemon stood in the Odaiba Mansion parking lot.

Though it was June, the evening was cool, and Eimi shuddered. She stared at the stacked rows of apartments, cubes mostly lit against the night, and said, “Let’s go inside.” The last thing they needed was for a neighbor to see the digimon and ask questions.

The group hustled to the lift, which opened to an outdoor walkway connecting their floor’s apartments. They paused at the door marked ‘Izumi,’ and Koushiro knocked. It opened almost instantly, suggesting that Kae had been hovering. Eimi and Koushiro forced weak smiles for her. Even with everything on her mind, Eimi felt a little better now that she was home, among the Izumi’s unconditional support. 

Kae’s shoulders went limp with relief. "Oh, thank goodness you're alright- Tentomon? Galemon?"

Tentomon approximated a midair bow. "Good evening, Okaa-han. Sorry to intrude, but could we stay with you?" Galemon tipped her head, and chiming issued from her floral extensions, her way of echoing Tentomon’s request.

Kae covered her mouth with a hand, hiding a giggle. "Of course! You're both always welcome. It's so good to see you again." There was a sharp twinge in Eimi’s chest, like a glass shard lodged in her heart. Although Tentomon’s introduction to Koushiro’s parents wasn’t seamless- apparently, Kae fainted when she met him- they quickly accepted him as family. Eimi’s attempt to introduce Galemon to her parents and brother had ended in harsh words that lingered across the years and never mended.

"You, too,” Tentomon replied, and Eimi pushed aside those thoughts. They were home, together, all of them. That was what mattered. They filed inside, and Eimi and Koushiro removed their shoes.

The Izumi apartment consisted of a long hallway bearing doors to bedrooms, the toilet room, and the bathroom. The hallway opened to a living area and kitchen on the left. The living room contained a large television with impressive speakers, a couch with a patten oddly reminiscent of Greymon’s skin, a coffee table, a dining table with four chairs, a curio, and a plant that was at least as old as Koushiro. The kitchen was separated from the living room by a wall with a rectangular opening.

Masami sat on the couch, monitoring the news for emergencies. He had changed out of his suit and into lounge clothing, a t-shirt and sweatpants. "What happened?" he asked. “Is everyone alright?”

Koushiro's brow indented with worried furrows. "I wish I could tell you. Violent digimon appeared at Haneda airport. Those people in suits brought the Chosen there to fight them. Somehow, they knew something would happen beforehand; the facility was already evacuated."

Kae pressed both hands to her heart. "So no one was hurt?"

"No, and I'm glad. But I need to know how this group anticipated the attack."

Masami and Kae shared a long look. Again, Eimi experienced the ghost of an emotion she couldn't quite name. Her parents couldn’t communicate silently, and they wouldn’t have felt the shared concern evident on Kae and Masami's faces. She knew from years of therapy that memories were riding her tonight, old trauma dredged to the surface by new worries. How could she focus on what was in front of her while everything behind her screamed for attention?

"I'm sure it's important," Masami said, "but it seems like you had a tough night. You should rest for now, all of you."

And suddenly, Eimi was blinking back tears. It hadn't occurred to her that a portion of Kae and Masami's concern was for her, and that was foolish. "We're okay," she said, trying to sound soothing. "There's just suddenly... a lot to think about."

Kae smiled and stepped towards the kitchen. "The restaurant boxed our cake. Would you all like a piece?"

Koushiro hesitated, but Tentomon was already accepting. The digimon craved food after battles, so Eimi and Koushiro played along, despite wanting to hole up together and compare impressions and theories.

Eimi offered to help serve the cake, but Kae and Masami told them to rest. She sat at the Izumi's dining table and slid her cell phone from her purse. "Jyou-senpai says Gomamon reached his apartment safely."

"That's good," Koushiro replied. "Did Daisuke-kun’s group respond?"

Eimi's front teeth sank into her lower lip. She had sent identical messages to Daisuke, Miyako, Iori, and Ken, trying to summarize the situation. No one had responded. "No... And Miyako usually answers texts right away. It's not that late, either..."

"Is something wrong?" Masami asked. As usual, he appeared composed, almost neutral. Not long ago, Eimi might have mistaken his mild expression for disinterest. Happily, nearly three years of living with the Izumis provided the experience needed to read him, and she saw worry in his tight body language that wasn’t shown in his face or tone.

Eimi hesitated, unwilling to voice her rising concerns. She was too focused on the fight and the agents earlier to really consider the implications of the absence of Daisuke’s team. But now that things were calmer, and she was staring at her unanswered text… Suddenly, the situation seemed more grave. "Those agents gathered all of the Chosen. Even Mimi showed up! But Daisuke, Miyako, Iori, and Ken weren't there."

Koushiro frowned. "Tentomon, Galemon, have either of you seen Armadimon or the others recently?"

This time, Galemon's chiming was discordant, unsettled. "No," Tentomon said. "It's been a long time, now that you mention it, but that isn't unusual. We partner digimon tend to split up, so we can keep an eye on different parts of the Digital World. For example, Galemon spends a lot of time in the Glen, and I monitor the forests beyond it."

Kae placed a slice of cake in front of Koushiro. "You should try calling them after this." Somehow, her concerned expression intensified when she met Eimi's gaze. Eimi blinked, unsure how to react.

"Eimi-chan..." Kae sighed. Her happy glow from the restaurant had diminished, and she had changed into a casual shift dress, but she was still beautiful. Her warm eyes, long, wavy hair, and clear complexion created a youthful appearance that seemed identical to the one Eimi recalled from her early childhood. 

"I don't mean to tell you what to do, but... You might consider calling Umeko. I know you might not want to, but as a mother... Well, I'd want to know when agents whisked you off to a digimon battle."

Eimi's shoulders snapped together and up, and the tension spread down her back and beyond. "Mom," Koushiro murmured. Kae placed a plate in front of Eimi and offered a small smile.

"It's your choice, obviously. I don't mean to overstep. I just... I'm so happy that you live with us now. But sometimes... Well, I feel guilty. I wonder if I'm denying Umeko the chance to be your mother."

Eimi stared at her slice of cake and slid the plate towards Galemon. "T-That's not..."

Koushiro brushed her hand beneath the table, a quick gesture of support. "Mom, please. Umeko-san agreed to place Eimi in your care. If anything, I think Eimi's relationship with her mother might recover now that she's here."

Kae served Eimi a replacement slice, but Eimi hardly noticed. Masami placed a hand on her shoulder and offered a soothing smile. In comparison to his wife, Masami was nondescript, with chunky glasses, a long face, and a rounded chin. But his kindness, fairness, and calm under pressure made it obvious what had attracted his wife and kept her happy all these years. "It's your choice, Eimi-chan. If you think us knowing about this is enough, then we'll respect that. You already have our family behind you."

"That's right," Kae agreed. Eimi picked up a fork, but didn't eat. The digimon had already demolished their slices. Would giving them hers be rude, since it was a celebratory cake?

Eimi heaved a deep sigh. "It will be on the news tomorrow... Mom will probably call me to ask about it, anyway."

Koushiro blinked, removed the fork from his mouth, and swallowed. “You're right. Taichi-san said a Kuwagamon attacked him in Odaiba earlier. There must be witnesses."

Masami tilted his head towards the television, where the news still played. "Yes. A lot of property damage and injuries, too. Fortunately, there were no fatalities or people reported missing."

“Thank goodness,” Eimi sighed. She turned to the television in time to see a familiar Odaiba street. The roads and sidewalks were smashed, and some of the buildings closest to the street had broken windows and demolished outer walls. Her stomach twisted. "I'm sorry, but… I'm not feeling well."

"We'll save your piece for later, then," Kae said.

"Thank you." Eimi stood and pushed her chair in. "Um... Happy anniversary. I'm sorry about... all of this."

"Yes," Koushiro sighed. "I'm sorry about the dinner."

Tentomon’s clear wings _whirred_ with excitement. "Okaa-han, Otou-han! Congratulations on your anniversary!”

"Thank you," Kae said, smiling. "Please don't apologize, either of you. Thank you for protecting us."

Heat rose to Eimi’s cheeks, but she was at a loss to explain it. All she knew was that her brain was somehow both cottony and heavy. She and Koushiro excused themselves, and they moved to Koushiro's bedroom with the digimon.

Koushiro’s room had changed very little over the years, save for updates to his computer equipment and books. It featured a twin bed with a blue comforter, a cork board over the pillow pinned with science articles and photos, a wardrobe, a large desk dominated by monitors with two chairs, and three bookcases stuffed with texts on math, science, and technology. These four walls formed the safest, most welcoming place Eimi had ever known.

Koushiro shut the door behind them, and Eimi breathed a little easier. "Did you want to call your mother? I'm sorry if the suggestion upset you."

Eimi flipped her phone open and stared at the display. "No," she said at last. "It... does hurt, but Kae-san is right. Mom may not see the news tonight, since she's living in the country with her mother-"

"Your mother has a mother?" Tentomon interrupted. Eimi paused, then recalled that the digimon sometimes forgot the finer points of human social lives.

"Well, yes. My mother's mother- that makes her my grandmother- lives in the country in Japan, about three hours away by train. My grandmother is also Taichi and Hikari's grandmother, because their mom and my mom are sisters."

Tentomon stared, but offered no comment. "Do you follow?" Koushiro asked gently. 

"Er," came the reply. 

Koushiro sat at his desk and opened a drawer. "Here, I'll draw you a chart..."

Tentomon and Galemon hovered over Koushiro's shoulder, peering at his work. Freed from distraction, Eimi continued, "Mom will call me tomorrow, probably. It might be better to tell her myself, since it gives me some agency... But... I'm _so_ tired. I don't think I can soothe her and give her emotional support over what happened to me. And I really don't want to tell her about those agents..."

"I see..." Koushiro looked up from the paper, his thick brows pressed down against concerned eyes. “Well… I suppose you have your choice of what to tell her.” When she failed to respond, he turned back to the digimon, explaining his chart.

"Koushiro-han, do you have grandparents?" Tentomon asked.

"No, unfortunately. Both pairs passed before I was born, and my parents have no siblings. That means I don't have cousins, like Eimi, Taichi-san, and Hikari-san."

Eimi tuned out the exchange, focusing on her predicament. Her communication with her mother was minimal these last few years, and she hadn’t spoken to her father at all since being assaulted in the states. Now that her mother had separated from her father and lived a few hours away from Odaiba, Eimi was navigating the sticky and heartsore business of deciding what kind of relationship to have with her, and where to place boundaries for her own protection. 

Before long, she realized that talking to her mother simply wasn’t her chief concern, and dismissed that line of thought. "Those agents," she murmured. "They really bother me. I think it's safe to assume that they're government, since they mentioned national security and seem to have access to our cell phone locations... But I guess we can't be sure."

Koushiro pushed his chart aside, pulled his laptop closer, and booted up. "Agreed. How long have they been watching us? Why come forward now? I assume it's because they couldn't handle the Kuwagamon without us. But if they knew something was happening with the Digital World, shouldn't they have told us? Surely, as active players, the Chosen should have been alerted."

"Right..." Sensing her anxiety, Galemon floated close to her. Eimi stroked her cool, rubbery head. "You might have been able to prevent those rips. Now you have to scramble to piece things together."

Koushiro looked away from his screen long enough to give her a wry smile. "As usual, you overestimate me, but I agree that cooperation is the best option. With that in mind, I'm emailing some contacts. Someone might have information on this group, but it's likely classified..."

"They did give that vibe," Eimi sighed. "But stars, what does this mean for us? Government monitoring, rips in space, crazy digimon attacks on earth..."

Koushiro turned back to his laptop, scowling. "This agency is a problem, but my immediate focus is on the attack. Why were those Kuwagamon so strong? How did those tears appear, and how did the agents know about them ahead of time? If I can understand that, then the Chosen can anticipate potential future attacks."

Eimi closed her eyes and crossed her arms. Her brain was a roulette wheel, each space marked with a separate concern, rotating so fast that she couldn’t discern any one slot. "If there are more attacks on earth, will our identities remain safe? The airport was evacuated, but Taichi and Agumon fought on the street. People must have seen them."

The monitor cast a pale glow on Koushiro’s face. The pattern of light and dark morphed as his brow crinkled. "I'm concerned about that, as well. Our cell phones didn't function in proximity to the airport. We’ve seen devices malfunction around Digital World events in the past, so I’m wondering if those rips trigger failure in electronics. Hopefully, no one was able to take footage of Taichi-san and Agumon, but word of mouth can't be stopped."

Eimi grimaced. A bright-orange T-rex with a horned helmet seemed like great- and memorable- gossip fuel. "Hmm... I always thought that laws protecting minors, Yamato's parents and their press contacts, and your work online kept our identities safe. But now I wonder if this agency had a hand in the cover up, even back in 1999. In that case, maybe Yamato's parents have met agents?"

"We could ask," Koushiro replied, but he sounded doubtful. Eimi nodded, acknowledging that it was a reach.

"Can you do me a favor?" Koushiro was already speaking to his screen, absorbed in god knew what. "While I focus on the digital aspects of what occurred tonight, can you focus on the earth end? If you don't mind, I'd love a written report of your impressions. Spare no detail; you notice important things."

Normally, a compliment from Koushiro caused a long-lasting glow of happiness. Today, Eimi barely heard the praise. "I'm happy to do it, but... Uh, you're not running to the office at this hour, are you?"

His rueful smile suggested that he had considered doing just that. "No, but I'll be there tomorrow. I'd appreciate it if you joined me."

Eimi nodded. Aiding Koushiro in his research was her job, regardless. But right now, she’d agree to a lot of things if it meant that Koushiro actually got some sleep. "Of course."

"Eimi-han, are you still Koushiro-han's assistant?" Tentomon asked.

“Colleague,” Koushiro corrected. Eimi grinned. Her official title was assistant researcher, since her job description was to help Koushiro with his work. Even so, Koushiro insisted on more equal language.

"Mm. Same office, too.” She patted Tentomon’s head, then turned to Koushiro. “We'll work tomorrow after school, so rest, okay? Don't stay up all night."

Koushiro blinked. "Er- Of course."

Eimi tried her best to look and sound firm. “I mean it. I know this is… a lot, and I know you want to figure things out, but you _need_ to sleep.” She flipped through her phone contacts. “And I’ll sleep a lot better if I hear from Iori…”

“Good idea,” Koushiro said. Eimi placed the call and lifted the phone to her ear. It rang, rang, _rang_ , then went to Iori’s voice mail.

Eimi closed the phone. Anxiety spiked, sudden and fiery, like lightning searing her brain. “N-no answer… Should I try Ken?”

“Tomorrow,” Koushiro suggested. “I think we’ve had enough excitement tonight. I’m sure there’s a reason for the lack of response. Our phones didn’t work near the airport. Perhaps there was a similar effect when Kuwagamon attacked nearby, and it’s still lingering?”

“My phone is working now, though. I guess the results _could_ be unpredictable…” Eimi scowled at her phone, as if the device was at fault. “Maybe that’s all it is…” A follow-up thought suggested that Jyou, who presumably had remained in Odaiba while they were in Ōta-ku, _had_ responded. 

Anxiety progressed to fear, and Galemon moved in front of Eimi. She tilted enough to fix a single eye, a shifting kaleidoscope in shades of blue, on her. _Rest._ There was something like a ‘knock’ in Eimi’s mind, Galemon waiting on the other side of the arch, requesting permission to enter. Eimi exhaled and placed her palms on the sides of Galemon’s face, guiding her until their foreheads touched. Galemon’s thoughts joined Eimi’s, similar in feeling, but distinct, like a harmony to her melody.

Galemon seemed to swim through her emotions, cutting off Eimi’s fear. Eimi breathed in, eyes welling up with relief at the sudden calm. Whatever was happening with Iori and the others, she couldn’t do anything tonight. Preparing for tomorrow was her best plan, and to do that, she had to sleep.

 _Thank you._ A gentle trill sounded in her head, and Eimi kissed Galemon’s snout. She stood, stepped around her partner, and went to Koushiro’s desk. “I’m going to bed. Rest, okay?”

“Mm.” Koushiro didn’t look away from his laptop’s screen, where numbers and figures flashed more rapidly than Eimi could follow. Eimi kissed his cheek, but still, he didn’t react.

“Koushiro-han!” Tentomon cried. Both Eimi and Koushiro twitched, startled by his volume. “Eimi-han is saying good night!” Buzzing filled her ears as Tentomon flew closer. Years ago, when they first met in the Digital World, Eimi flinched away when Tentomon flew so near, an automatic defense against what sounded like the approach of an immense mosquito. Long experience had reprogrammed her reflexes. She stroked his shoulder, and his stubby digits closed around her wrist.

Koushiro blinked up at them, mildly bewildered, and she swallowed a giggle. “ _Sleep_ , Koushiro.”

“Ah…” The hesitant, downward press of his eyebrows communicated what Eimi already knew: sleep wasn’t on Koushiro’s agenda. She sighed and stared into Tentomon’s multi-faceted eyes.

“I’m counting on you to make sure he goes to bed. Don’t let him give you the ‘one more hour’ excuse all night.”

“Understood!” Koushiro sighed, but offered no argument. When Tentomon was around, Eimi had more ammunition in her lifelong battle to make sure Koushiro was adequately fed, watered, and rested. Digimon didn’t mind being stubborn and repeating themselves for the benefit of their humans, and it was difficult to say no to a being who wanted nothing more than your wellness.

“Thank you.” Eimi kissed the top of Tentomon’s head, then turned towards Koushiro’s door. “Goodnight, you two.”

Koushiro frowned, but quickly smoothed his expression. Still, through long experience, Eimi read the trace of hurt in his voice. “Haven’t you forgotten something?”

She turned away quickly, desperate to hide a laugh. There was a series of clicks as Tentomon landed on Koushiro’s desk. “You already got your kiss,” he scolded. “You weren’t paying attention.” 

Koushiro colored as Eimi’s laughter finally bubbled over. She winked, blew a kiss, and slipped into the hallway, with Galemon beside her. Tentomon’s lecture diminished with each step (“Koushiro-han! You have to be aware of Eimi-han! She’s worried about you!”), then faded when she closed her bedroom door.

Eimi’s room was once Masami’s office, converted for her use when she moved in. It was small, barely accommodating a twin bed, a closet, and a book case. Her high school uniform hung from a hook on the wall, and her acoustic guitar and a music stand were stationed by the bed. Eimi didn’t own much, and she only used this space to sleep, dress, and play guitar, so what might have been cramped quarters felt cozy and private. The walls, comforter, and bookcase were white, creating an airy vibe. Star-shaped string lights hung from the wall over the bed, already lit on a timer, ready to shine over her sleep.

A glance at her resting place ushered in the fatigue Eimi had somehow held back. She sighed, a gusty rush of relief, and Galemon trilled her agreement. She tensed when someone knocked on the door, but smiled when she recognized the rhythm.

She opened the door and found Koushiro, looking sheepish. “Ah,” he began, then went mute. Amusement ricocheted from Eimi to Galemon and back. Clearly, it was one of those times when Koushiro couldn’t string together more than the occasional monosyllable. She considered taking pity and helping him along… But where was the fun in that? Instead, she leaned against the door frame, smiling playfully.

“Ah…” When his shoulders slumped, Eimi’s amusement died. She held his hand, and his fingers weaved through hers and locked into place. There was no need to ask what he wanted, and no reason to withhold. She leaned in, closed her eyes, and tipped her head up just a touch, brushing her mouth against his.

With Galemon watching, Tentomon nearby, and the Izumis in the living area, they couldn’t be demonstrative. Still, the simple contact provided all the comfort, warmth, and security of sinking into a fluffy bed. Before she knew what was happening, Eimi’s arms were around him, holding what was precious tight against her.

Koushiro eased back at the buzzing sound of Tentomon’s approach, but didn’t release her. He cleared his throat and hesitated. Since all contact to the Digital World had been cut off for over a year, he and Eimi didn’t have much experience navigating the more romantic aspect of their relationship around the digimon. “Goodnight,” he said at last. “I promised Tentomon I’ll be in bed by 11:30.”

Tentomon appeared in the doorway, hovering over Koushiro’s shoulder. “I argued him down from 1:00,” he declared, clearly expecting praise. Eimi provided with genuine enthusiasm, always grateful for help in Koushiro wrangling.

When she paused for breath, Koushiro leaped in to change the subject. “You need to sleep, too. I know you’ll be in bed,” he said, cutting off Eimi as she opened her mouth to argue, “but you’ll stay up worrying.”

Galemon’s agreement pounded into Eimi’s head from somewhere behind her. She ignored her partner and said, “I’ll do my best. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Eimi-han! Galemon!”

Koushiro and Tentomon retreated down the hall, and Eimi closed her door again. Galemon floated over and nudged her cheek with her snout. Hugging a long, rubbery dolphin with floral tubes popping off her head was an awkward business, but Eimi managed.

After changing and prepping for sleep, Eimi slid into bed. Galemon lowered beside her, and Eimi lifted covers and sheets over her. In the dim glow of her star lights, Eimi saw a single blue eye watching her.

“I missed you,” Eimi murmured. She smiled, but sensed how melancholic it was. Sometimes, the gates to the Digital World opened, even when there weren’t emergencies. Those were magical periods, stretches when the Chosen could see their partners without emergencies hanging overhead. Usually, the digimon appeared in sporadic bursts to help with crises, returning to a locked Digital World when they resolved. Every Chosen sorted their memories into times when the digimon were around, and times when they weren’t. Even now, with Galemon cuddling into her, there was no time to catch up or reminisce. The day’s trials had depleted them, and more pressing issues controlled Eimi’s thoughts.

Still, love and welcome radiated from Galemon’s mind to hers. _Home,_ she replied. Eimi blinked, pushing back sudden tears. She kissed the end of Galemon’s snout.

“Y-yeah. Welcome back. And… I know we need to sleep, but just so you know, I’m so happy and safe with the Izumis. You don’t have to worry about me anymore. But you could feel that in the Digital World, right?”

Like Tentomon, Galemon’s face wasn’t expressive. Her mouth was set in a permanent dolphin’s smile that couldn’t reflect her changing moods. To most of the Chosen and their partners, she was an enigma, but Eimi experienced all emotions and thoughts that Galemon sent her over their link.

Right now, Galemon felt tender, warm, and bright. _Home,_ she repeated. An image of Eimi kissing Koushiro a few minutes ago from Galemon’s perspective floated into her head, accompanied by Eimi’s emotions of comfort and belonging, regurgitated back to her from Galemon. _Love._

“Ah,” Eimi murmured, unconsciously mimicking Koushiro when he was at a loss for words. It occurred to her that, with her growing older, she would have to establish some “mind-sharing” boundaries with Galemon. But then… There was nothing wrong with Galemon knowing that Eimi had found her family. After all, Galemon was part of it, too.

Eimi stroked the side of Galemon’s head. “Yeah. Let’s get some sleep.”

They snuggled in and fell silent, but Eimi’s eyes lingered on the reflection of light following the curve of her flip phone’s cover. Thoughts of Iori and the rest of Daisuke’s team crowded her brain, until Galemon intervened again, trimming the worries down to nothing. 

Eimi slid into sleep at last, with nothing but Galemon’s love and the sensation of being home in her mind.

 **Author's Note:** Gettin' in some background for Eimi via interacting with the Izumis. Exposition management is a _huge_ challenge in this fic, since it's the sequel to [_Growing Up with You_](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8569684/1/Growing-Up-with-You), which is over 400K words long! Tune in the weekend after next for _Saikai: Beneath Akemi Bridge_. We'll see the Chosen hash out recent developments, and Takeru visiting Iori and Miyako's apartments in his building to find out where the heck they are. 

Please remember to leave feedback! Have a good two weeks, and stay safe!


	3. Saikai: Beneath Akemi Bridge

**Tri: Integrity Lens**

_Saikai: Beneath Akemi Bridge_

Eimi sat on the Izumi’s living room couch, hugging Tentomon on her lap. The two of them watched the news as Kae packed lunches for the family with Galemon hovering by her. Koushiro sat at the table, working on his laptop and sipping coffee. 

The broadcast featured images of the damage done in Tokyo by Kuwagamon and Greymon. Eimi grimaced and rested her chin on top of Tentomon’s head. Usually, disasters on television took place somewhere far away, and she could only imagine the impact on locals. But these crumbled sidewalks and fractured buildings were part of her daily life. 

Eimi squeezed Tentomon harder. What if those rips kept occurring, and one of their partners missed an enemy digimon and demolished a building? Even if it was an accident, even if they meant to help, people could die. And their families and friends would want justice, or at least what they perceived as justice.

“We need to protect you guys,” Eimi murmured.

Tentomon’s head tipped up. “We protect _you_ , Eimi-han.”

There was a faint clink as Koushiro placed his mug on the table. “She’s right, Tentomon. Public opinion of digimon has never been high. I’m afraid these events will only lower it.”

Tentomon wiggled, and Eimi eased her hold enough for him to look at Koushiro. “I don’t understand. We partner digimon like humans.”

Koushiro’s expressive eyebrows crowded together with worry. “We know that, but the average person doesn’t. All most people know about digimon is that they suddenly appear, cause damage, and then vanish.”

Eimi scowled at the television, and an attractive news anchor frowned back at her. “Although there were witnesses to the attack, there is no footage. Reportedly, electronics stopped functioning while the monsters were present. By the time they were functional again, the monsters had vanished.”

“It seems as though no one noticed Taichi-san,” Koushiro offered.

Eimi practically oozed against the sofa with relief. “I guess the digimon were more attention-grabbing.” 

The scene on screen shifted, showing the wreckage at the airport. “An additional monster attack at Haneda airport caused drastic travel delays. Delays will continue as the facility is repaired.” After expanding on delays and construction costs, the scene shifted once more, showing a new reporter standing near a wrecked Odaiba street.

“I’m live on scene to talk to residents about the attack,” the woman explained, beaming despite the grim subject matter. A group of young professionals lingered beside her, dressed in suits for work. “What are your impressions?”

A flustered man toyed with the tie knotted around his throat. “It’s awful,” he said. “I remember when those monsters came to Odaiba in 1999… My whole family was dragged out of our apartment and held prisoner at Tokyo Big Sight. I don’t even want to think about something like that happening again.”

“Seriously,” the man beside him agreed. “What do they even want? Can’t they stay… wherever they came from?”

A woman in a pantsuit nodded vigorously. “Yeah. Why do they keep coming back? Can’t the government and military get rid of them?”

Nausea rolled over Eimi, and she wasn’t sure if it had started in her body or transferred to her from Galemon. The television flickered off, and Eimi turned to see Kae holding the remote. “That’s enough for now,” she said firmly. “Those people are scared. I understand them… But they don’t know how lovely you partner digimon are. If they did, they wouldn’t say those things.”

Tentomon drooped against Eimi, and she nuzzled her cheek against his head. “We don’t want to cause trouble,” he said.

“You’re not,” Kae replied. “You never do. You’re family. Koushiro and Eimi-chan have to go to school today, so you and Galemon can relax here. Just promise me you’ll stay inside.”

“We promise, Okaa-han,” Tentomon replied.

“Thanks for watching them, Mom. I’m developing a way to keep the digimon safe and hidden, but I need some time to complete it. Tentomon, Galemon, will you be okay here?”

Tentomon shifted, and Eimi released him. He flew to Koushiro and said, “We’ll wait, Koushiro-han. I know you’ll have whatever you’re working on ready soon.”

“Thank you,” Koushiro replied. “Mom, Eimi and I will buy our dinner tonight.”

Kae placed two lunches wrapped in beautiful fabric on the table beside Koushiro. “I know you’re worried, but don’t work too hard. I’ve made you extra nice lunches for today, so try to relax and enjoy.”

“Mom…” Although a cloud of concern hung over his face, Koushiro managed a smile. “Thank you.”

“T-thank you,” Eimi echoed. She hoped the waver in her voice wasn’t obvious. No matter how long she lived in the Izumi apartment, she couldn’t seem to adjust to the kindness of Koushiro’s parents. 

“You’re welcome. Eimi-chan, keep an eye on him. You drag him home if it gets too late.”

Eimi caught Koushiro’s gaze, lifted an eyebrow, and grinned. “I will.” He sighed, recognizing that she meant it, but didn’t argue.

“Good,” Kae replied. “Now hurry up, you two.”

Eimi and Koushiro gathered their belongings, said goodbye to Kae and the digimon, and set off for school.

**XXX**

Eimi trailed behind Koushiro in a hallway in their high school. Her hand was in the pocket of her baby blue uniform blazer, curled around her cell phone. Mobile usage wasn't permitted at school, but she had it set to vibrate. Even if she couldn't read the message, she wanted to know the instant she was contacted by Daisuke’s team.

When Koushiro came to a stop, Eimi almost walked into his back. "Good morning, everyone," he said. Eimi peeked around him and waved to Taichi, Sora, and Yamato.

"Good morning," Sora greeted. Taichi lifted a hand in acknowledgment, but Yamato retained his trademark scowl.

"Morning. Why are you all standing here?" Eimi asked.

Yamato jerked a thumb over his shoulder. Eimi followed it to a sign on the wall, which read, 'Calligraphy.' "Nishijima-sensei," Koushiro translated.

Before anyone could respond, a sweet, airy voice called, "Gooooood moooorning!" in English. As one, the group turned towards the sound. Mimi flounced down the hall and executed a cute, skirt-twirling turn when she reached them.

" _What_ ," Taichi wheezed. 

Mimi winked and flashed a peace sign. "Hehehe! Did I surprise you?"

"Um, Mimi-chan..." Sora scratched her head, then hooked a stray bit of hair behind her ear. "What are you doing here?"

Mimi gestured in front of her, indicating her uniform, which matched Eimi's and Sora's. "I'll be going to this school from now on! My family moved back to Japan for Papa's work."

"What- But you said you came for my soccer game! You tried to make me pay your airfare!" Taichi protested. Mimi laughed, and Eimi fought the urge to step back. Mimi's laughter was the auditory version of a rose: beautiful, but often thorned.

"I was teasing you! I'm here to stay!"

"T-that's great," Sora managed, raising her voice over Taichi’s sputtering. "But who is your friend?"

Eimi and Koushiro moved as one, edging to see around Mimi. Another girl in their uniform stood beyond her, at a distance suggesting separation from their group.

The girl wore glasses and had long, dark hair. Her eyes were trained to the floor, but snapped up when Mimi motioned towards her. "We just met. This is her first day here, too."

The girl seemed to edge back without moving. "Um, I'm Mochizuki Meiko. I'm a second year. I, I transferred here from Tottori."

Sora smiled warmly. "Nice to meet you. I'm Takenouchi Sora, also a second year."

The others introduced themselves, and Meiko seemed to grow smaller each second, her body language scrunching up like a turtle hiding in its shell. After Koushiro offered his name, she sneezed, covered her face with her hands, and ran away, footsteps echoing down the hall.

"Huh," Yamato murmured.

"Jitters, I guess. New school, new neighborhood...." Taichi shrugged. "Anyway... I'm glad we all ended up here. We can’t find Nishijima-sensei, but let's meet at Akemi bridge after school."

Odaiba had its own elementary school and middle school, but the nearest high school was on Tokyo mainland. Akemi bridge was a convenient route for students commuting from Odaiba to the high school. Since Hikari and Takeru attended middle school on Odaiba, Akemi bridge was a serviceable meeting place for everyone.

"Okay," Mimi said. "Too bad that the teacher is out, but we'll meet after school, then. Does anyone know where class 1-C is?"

"Oh! You're in our class?" Eimi said. "That's lucky!"

Mimi clapped her hands. "Are you serious? I'm in a class with you and Koushiro-kun? Nice!" Suddenly, Eimi found herself arm in arm with Mimi, being half-marched down the hall. Eimi tipped her head back and met Koushiro's bemused gaze. He was also locked in Mimi's hold.

Sensing that her window was closing, Eimi craned her neck and called, "See you!" to the others. This was half-drowned by Koushiro pointing out that Mimi was blithely hauling them in the wrong direction.

 _Never a quiet moment_ , Eimi thought with a smile.

**XXX**

Koushiro sat on the stone paving beneath Akemi bridge. The summer day was cooler under the shadow of the arch. A breeze from Tokyo Bay blew gently by, smelling of the sea, a whisper of the Pacific Ocean.

He stared at his laptop as the Chosen assembled. Over time, more teammates arrived, and his ears tuned to the pleasant sound of Eimi, Mimi, Sora, and Hikari catching up. Though his thoughts were on his work, those trusted voices soothed him. For their safety, the digimon were at their partner’s homes. Otherwise, the atmosphere was like old times.

A delighted cry of, "Jyou-senpai!" broke his concentration, and Koushiro looked up to see Mimi run to Jyou for a hug. Jyou was the last arrival, so after everyone greeted him, the group gathered around Koushiro.

"I filled Jyou in on what happened last night," Yamato said.

"Good," Taichi replied. "Koushiro, what have you got?"

Koushiro rubbed the back of his neck, which had gone stiff. He hesitated; stepping back into his information-sharing mode was oddly intimidating, especially when he had so little to offer. "I wish I had more to tell you, but it's mostly conjecture."

"It's been less than twenty-four hours," Takeru pointed out. "I'm impressed with anything."

Koushiro managed a tight smile. "Here's what I know. These rips are our first contact with the Digital World in over a year. All gates and channels of contact have been closed, even my email connection to Gennai-san. Even now, with digimon appearing on earth, all contact is shut off. This suggests that these tears are some kind of... distortion."

"Distortion?" Hikari repeated.

"Basically, a non-gate, temporary connection to the Digital World that seems to be beyond anyone's control. From what I can tell, distortions occur when our world and the Digital World touch. This is theoretical, but I think I can predict when and where distortions will occur based on data aggregation."

Mimi's brow furrowed. "Uh..."

Koushiro paused, searching for a clear explanation. "Have you ever tried to access data when other people were using the same network?"

"And everything loads slowly?" Sora said. Koushiro nodded.

"It's something like that. For the purpose of our discussion, the rips are distortions in the spacetime separating earth and the Digital World. They occur because the two worlds touch when too much data is concentrated in one spot on earth."

"I think I follow," Jyou said. "But... We use a lot of data these days, right? Heck, we're all carrying cell phones."

Koushiro scowled. "Yes, precisely. I'm afraid our problems with distortions occurring and digimon passing through them are just beginning. Worse yet, the Kuwagamon from yesterday seem to have been mutated, somehow."

Eimi frowned and tipped her head. "Mutated, really? Like... point mutations in DNA?"

Taichi sighed, suggesting that he was lost. Once more, Koushiro floundered for a way to explain. "Mutations in an organism’s DNA sequence can lead to changes in the proteins generated by that DNA, which can have unpredictable affects on the organism."

"Digimon don't have DNA," Yamato pointed out.

"They don't," Koushiro agreed. "But they do have data. I suppose you could imagine this mutation as a dropped symbol in a code. Just one change can cause a glitch, or even system failure."

"Those Kuwagamon fought just fine, anyway," Taichi muttered.

"That's true. This mutation, this change compared to a wild type Kuwagamon, made the mutant Kuwagamon stronger. My data isn't conclusive- I didn't even have my laptop during the attack- but I'm confident that these mutated Kuwagamon were both stronger and more aggressive than normal."

"So... You're worried that future digimon passing through distortions will also be extra strong and violent?" Sora asked.

A grunt from Taichi had Koushiro glancing up. Taichi stood near the edge of the walkway beneath the bridge, arms crossed. Images of the damaged airport and streets from news reports flashed through Koushiro's mind. "I'm afraid so," he muttered.

A heavy silence hung over the group. "Anything else?" Taichi asked at last.

Koushiro shook off his mood and focused on the data. "Well, we all noticed that mass electronic malfunctions preceded the distortions. I'm hopeful that I can develop a way to foresee a distortion, like the agents did. In the meantime, we should all be alert when electronics malfunction."

"Right," Yamato drawled. "And then we'll call each other."

Mimi tapped her foot impatiently. "Of course we'll call each- oh."

Takeru grinned, but no one had the heart to laugh. Having finished his report, Koushiro asked, "Are there any questions?"

"About a thousand," Jyou groaned.

Eimi raised her hand. "Has anyone heard from Iori or the others? Did you see them at school, Hikari?"

Hikari wrapped her arms around her upper body, as if to support herself. "Daisuke-kun and Miyako-san weren't at school..."

"I'm going to visit Miyako-san and Iori-kun after this," Takeru said. 

"Thank goodness,” Eimi sighed. “Can you call me after? I'm getting freaked out."

Yamato stepped away from the edge of the walkway opposite Taichi. "Did anyone see the news this morning?" Eimi stiffened, and Koushiro glanced at her, then back at Yamato. Whatever Eimi was picking up on was a mystery to him, so he switched to observation mode.

Jyou sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose, lifting his glasses. "It was awful. There was a lot of damage at Haneda airport. I know those agents seem shady, but it's good that they evacuated the airport, anyway."

"They said awful things about digimon.” Mimi slammed her hands on her hips. "They don't know what they're talking about! Our digimon saved everyone. Those Kuwagamon would have done a lot more damage otherwise."

"Yeah," Yamato agreed. Koushiro blinked; it was rare for Yamato to side with Mimi. "I wish I could contact the reporters through Dad, but he's been so busy since the attacks that I can't get a hold of him."

"It's better to protect your identity," Eimi suggested, but her words were drowned by other complaints about the news reports.

When there was a lull, Taichi said, "I hear you, but... Well, people are right to be worried."

The effect was instantaneous. Most of the Chosen reacted with surprise or anger, but Yamato was the one who took action, rushing into Taichi's space like a locomotive. "That kid at school was talking about wanting digimon to die. Why did you stop me from saying something? What are you trying to say now?"

Koushiro glanced at Eimi, checking her reaction. She often understood social situations better than he did, and right now, he was lost. The human/digimon relationship was a complex subject, very much worthy of discussion. He understood Yamato's anger, but aggression would solve nothing.

Eimi's attention was on Taichi, so Koushiro looked at him, too. Taichi’s face was composed in a rigid mask, blank save for the downward press of his eyebrows. Slowly, his closed-off body language opened, signaling an attempt to calm himself.

"I understand how you feel," he said softly. "I don't want to hear words against digimon, either. But _we_ understand what's happening. The people on the news have no clue. From their perspective, the sky rips open, monsters come through, and suddenly, they're running for their lives. They're scared, Yamato. That's why they're reacting like this."

"Scared of us?" Yamato spat. "We're the only ones who can help them. What if someone like that kid at school finds one of our digimon and hurts them?" 

Koushiro wasn’t the only one who flinched. If someone hurt Tentomon, or any of their partners… He shook his head, banishing the thought. He promised himself that he would finish the digital safe space for them immediately.

"That's why we have to be responsible for our digimon."

Koushiro's head whipped around to face Eimi. She hadn't moved, and her expression read as politely engaged, but Koushiro recognized the intensity in her eyes. This was important to her, was something she had spent time chewing on. A decision made and tucked into her world view.

Yamato hesitated, likely surprised by Eimi's directness. Although his scowl remained, his tone calmed. "Are you saying it's our fault if someone hurts our digimon?"

"Of course not. But it’s true that the public view of digimon is dangerous. It's up to us to keep them out of sight and protected. Moving forward, the only people I'll trust with Galemon are the Chosen and Koushiro's parents."

"It shouldn't be that way!" Mimi cried. "They're our friends! I don't want to hide Palmon away!"

Eimi took a deep breath. Mimi’s strong emotions often surprised and baffled Koushiro, leaving him floundering. In Eimi’s case, Mimi’s feelings often tugged at hers, heightening them to the point where her rationality crumbled and she said things she regretted. But despite being so often out of sync, Eimi, Mimi, and Koushiro were friends, so they tried to navigate their differences with care.

Thus, Eimi collected herself before saying, "Of course I don't want that. But it’s negligent to ignore the situation. Like Taichi said, the Chosen are mediators, the people who know what's happening and can see the perspective of both humans and digimon. Pretending that we aren't in a rare and difficult position is counterproductive."

"We didn't ask for this responsibility," Jyou protested.

"No." Eimi forced a tiny smile. "But I have Galemon and all of you because of it."

Koushiro didn't understand why, but the others suddenly seemed even more uneasy. Except for his confused glances, most of them were carefully not looking at each other. Eimi's stance seemed reasonable; how had it offended?

"If we're in the middle, then we need to show people that digimon are good!" Mimi cried.

"That's true." Yamato shifted back towards Taichi, an easier target than Eimi, due to the old habit of butting heads with him. "We need to protect Tokyo from these mutated digimon. Only _we_ can do that." 

Taichi held Yamato’s gaze for a long interval, both boys standing with stiff, set shoulders. Koushiro fought the urge to sigh. He never could guess the meaning of these protracted glances. "Yeah," Taichi said. "But... This isn't the Digital World. A lot of people could get hurt."

Yamato stepped even closer, his arm lifting in a way that suggested he might grab at Taichi’s collar. "Even more will get hurt if we do nothing!”

" _Yamato_ ," Sora said, her tone incredibly mom-ish. Yamato tsked, but took a step back from Taichi.

"There's no point in talking about this if you're so vulnerable," he said. "I'm going to band practice."

"Aniki," Takeru protested. Yamato gave his brother a nod, but kept walking. The group watched him go, and Koushiro found that his hands were curled tight around his laptop. He let go and fought the urge to shake them out.

Taichi sighed and threw his school bag over his shoulder. "I'm heading out, too. I have soccer practice."

"I have to leave, too," Jyou said. "I need to study." Koushiro blinked, disoriented by the sudden departures. Had the tension pushed everyone away? Wasn’t there more to discuss?

"Aww, come on," Mimi protested. "This is important! And I just came back to Japan!"

Jyou managed a rueful smile. "Sorry, Mimi-kun. You know my college entrance exams are coming up. I haven't even had time to spend with my girlfriend."

Koushiro's whole body twitched. " _Girlfriend?!_ " Mimi shrieked, giving voice to his astonishment.

"Uhhh, is this girl human?" Takeru asked. Eimi swallowed a snort, but Sora said his name with the same maternal displeasure she had utilized on Yamato. Takeru grinned and shrugged, nonplussed.

"What," Jyou replied tonelessly, apparently too stunned to emote.

Mimi winced, then flapped a hand. "Let's... believe him, everyone."

"Huh?" Eimi tipped her head. "Jyou-senpai wouldn’t lie."

Jyou rubbed his temples, suggesting a sudden and intense migraine. "Thanks, Eimi-kun. I can't believe you guys. And, anyway, I’m the oldest. I deserve to be happy first."

Koushiro and Eimi scowled in unison, and just like that, Jyou’s only ally bailed. “Excuse you!” Eimi cried, gesturing between herself and Koushiro. 

Jyou blinked, then smacked his forehead. “Right, sorry. I forgot.”

Eimi’s mouth fell open, and an enraged little squeak plopped out. Takeru snorted and Mimi giggled. Having their relationship overlooked by someone he respected was irritating, but Koushiro couldn’t help grinning at Eimi’s outraged expression.

“Jyou-senpai,” Sora scolded. 

Jyou laughed in a way that was somehow both awkward and annoyed. “Sorry, sorry. You’ve always been really close- And you don’t advertise it-” His jerky, pacifying hand motions came to an abrupt halt as he scowled. “I guess you two really were the first.”

“I don’t know…” Hikari tapped her chin and fixed Takeru with an incredible look of faux-innocence. “Takeru-kun might have everyone beat, with all those girlfriends…”

Takeru responded with a breezy laugh. “I told you, Hikari-chan! Those are just friends.”

Eimi’s giggle caused a wave of relief from Jyou and Koushiro. With the mood adequately salvaged, Jyou muttered a few more complaints, then departed. Sora stepped into the middle of the remaining Chosen, smiling in a way that didn't quite mask her strain. "Would anyone like to get something to eat?"

"Oh!" Mimi cried. "Me, me! I've been craving okonomiyaki forever!"

"I'd like to go, too," Hikari said.

"Thank you, but Eimi and I are going to our office," Koushiro replied. 

"And I want to meet with Miyako-san and Iori-kun," Takeru said.

Eimi nodded. "Great idea. Let us know how that goes, okay?"

"Will do. See you later!"

The group dispersed as Koushiro packed his laptop. By the time he finished, only he and Eimi remained beneath the bridge. The two of them began the walk to the office building where they worked. Although sunset was a ways off, the afternoon was beginning to dim. Koushiro stared at nothing, trying to understand and work through his jittery, strained mood.

After some time, Koushiro said, "May I ask you something?"

Eimi's eyes performed that familiar shift back into focus, indicating that her thoughts had been far away, too. "Mm?"

"You mentioned that bearing the burden of being Chosen is worth knowing Galemon. I feel the same way about Tentomon.” He hesitated, not wanting to upset Eimi, but needing to understand. “I could be mistaken, but… the remark seemed to cause tension." 

Eimi sighed, and her whole body deflated with it, leaving her shoulders sagging forward. "Yeah. I really didn't want to say it. The thing is... We need to be cognizant of our position. It's... really tempting to think that everyone should be grateful to our partners because of what they've done to protect both worlds. It's so tempting to see ourselves and our digimon as heroes."

"What's wrong with that?" Koushiro asked. "Our digimon _are_ heroes."

"They are," Eimi agreed. "But _we're_ humans. Young ones, too. We make bad decisions, we can’t always foresee the consequences of our actions. For most kids, that's fine. They make mistakes and learn. But for us...”

Eimi hesitated and tipped her head up. For a while, she stared at the puffy clouds hanging high overhead. In a small voice, she said, “Our mistakes could get people killed. Digimon, too. Maybe even ours."

"That's... a lot of pressure.” Koushiro marveled at his calm tone. His brain seemed to be pushing aside Eimi’s perfectly rational words, and he was at a loss to explain his own lapse in logic. 

"Yes," Eimi agreed. "And I think that some of us want to ignore it. Or, at least, some of us might be tempted to pretend that fighting on earth is like fighting in the Digital World. Usually, we only had to worry about keeping ourselves safe when we were there."

For once, Koushiro was tempted to drop a meaningful line of inquiry. But gathering information was an ingrained instinct, so he pushed through his discomfort and asked, "But what does that have to do with the burden being worthwhile in return for knowing our digimon?"

Her enormous grimace caused a twisting sensation in Koushiro’s guts. "Well... What I said implies that... If we want the privilege of knowing our digimon, of having that special bond... We have to be willing to carry the weight." Eimi buried her face in her hands. "I basically told everyone to step up. No one likes to hear that."

"And you knew that when you said it," Koushiro realized. "So... Why say it?"

She rubbed the back of her neck, where it sloped out to her shoulders. Koushiro was intimately aware of how easy it was for Eimi to take on responsibilities and worries, even ones that weren’t hers to handle. He placed a hand on her shoulder, a tacit offering of support.

"Because... I’m worried that we might have to make difficult choices soon, ones we don't want to make. No matter how you slice it, being an active Chosen on earth is different than being a Chosen in the Digital World. We'll have to do things we don't like to protect our digimon, and to protect humans."

"In the Digital World, our digimon protect us from other digimon," Koushiro began.

"On earth, we protect the digimon from other humans.” Eimi’s volume dipped, and Koushiro inched even closer to hear, “Maybe even from people we know and trust, like classmates or neighbors."

A long silence formed as Koushiro considered Eimi’s words. On the one hand, her perspective was alarmingly sensible and thought out. On the other… He recognized that she was taking on far too many troubles, prepping for the worst before they even knew what was happening. "Eimi... I appreciate that you want to keep our digimon safe. But... Sometimes, I fear that you're being too guarded."

"I'm good at it," Eimi said. She smiled and shrugged, but the weariness in her eyes counteracted any playfulness. "If my being guarded can protect the rest of the Chosen and the digimon, then I'll lean into it."

Koushiro took her hand. "Just remember that you can lean on us, too. Please, don’t carry so much alone."

All traces of her smile faded. “I’m trying not to,” she muttered. “But… I don’t think the others are ready to hear me out, except for maybe Taichi. What was it that Yamato said? ‘You’re too vulnerable to talk to’?”

Her grip on his hand tightened, and Koushiro squeezed back. “I don’t like that we’re arguing already,” he said. “Although… I suppose that’s how it’s always been.”

Eimi blinked, then laughed. He grinned in return, pleased to have lightened her mood. “You’re right!” she cried. “We’re always a mess!”

“Too true, I’m afraid,” Koushiro replied. “But we have much more experience and information this time, as well as stronger evolutions. And I’m working on a safe place to store the digimon while we’re away from home. We’ll get through this, so please… Don’t worry.”

“You’re right.” Their office building, a tall, modern monolith of glass, glinted in the sunlight about a block off. “If we have time to worry, we have time to do something. Tell me more about what you’re planning.”

Koushiro needed little persuasion to talk shop, and he launched into his theories and plans for a safe server for the digimon. Soon, the tension among the Chosen faded from memory, and they were absorbed in the work that he hoped would overcome the worries and difficult choices that so concerned Eimi.

**Author's Notes:** As a disclaimer, I don't know if Odaiba high school students actually use Akemi Bridge to get to the high school on Tokyo mainland. I tried to look at a map of Odaiba, but the network of bridges was intense! It _is_ true that there is no high school on Odaiba, and the students commute to the mainland, however.

Also, in the Japanese version of Saikai, Koushiro says the distortions are caused by gravity/ _are_ gravity???? ("[curvature in the spacetime](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gravity)"). I'm a molecular biologist IRL, so I tried to make the techno babble similar, but less... Nonsensical. Er- basically, if you have a science background, the writers seem to have spun a roulette wheel to slap some fancy- and meaningless, in his context- science words into his explanation.

I wrote a blog post about [the themes of this fic here](https://ahiddenpath.tumblr.com/post/630968079651848192/agency-and-responsibility-in-tri), if you're interested.

Please remember to leave feedback! Thanks for reading, and I'll see you again in two weeks, when Takeru returns from visiting Miyako and Iori's apartments.


	4. Saikai: Missing

**Tri: Integrity Lens**

_Saikai: Missing_

Koushiro and Eimi sat at their desks in their office, working. They both looked up when a voice sounded through the intercom connected to the elevator in the office building's lobby.

"Koushiro-san? Eimi-san? It's Takeru." 

Eimi walked to the office's door, which was equipped with a high security lock, and pressed the intercom button. "Hey, Takeru. I'll let you up."

"Thanks."

Eimi released the lock on the elevator. The public could access the building's lobby, but the elevator only responded if a worker swiped their security card, or if someone disengaged the lock from inside the building. 

Eimi leaned against the wall and frowned. "I don't like this. Why did he come in person? He could have texted to say that Iori and Miyako are okay."

Koushiro blinked. He was accustomed to Chosen dropping in to chat and share news, so he hadn't thought of that. "Er, I'm sure there's a reason.”

A pained grimace twisted her features. "Yeah. That's what I'm afraid of."

When Takeru knocked, Eimi let him in. Koushiro rolled his chair to the side for a view past his enormous monitor. His heart dropped when he discovered that Takeru was alone.

"Hey," Eimi said. "Can I get you a drink?"

When Takeru looked up, both Eimi and Koushiro jumped to attention. All signs of cheer and mischief were absent, leaving a haggard, shaken boy. He might have looked like a stranger if Koushiro hadn’t seen him in horrible situations before. 

Koushiro half-ran around his desk. Eimi tugged Takeru’s hand, leading him to the office seating area. "Are you okay? Here, sit down..."

Takeru collapsed onto the indicated black sofa. Eimi ran to the fridge, grabbed a bottle, and offered it to Takeru. He stared at it, as if he didn’t know what it was. 

Eimi sat beside Takeru, and Koushiro took the armchair next to Takeru's end of the sofa. Eimi lifted her arm, and Koushiro's eyebrows shot up when Takeru huddled into her side. He seemed so vulnerable, so young. Memories floated from the depths of his mind, images of a small boy cuddling into Eimi around Digital World camp fires, fighting to feel less afraid.

"What happened?" Eimi asked. Takeru dropped his head on her shoulder.

"I talked to their mothers," he whispered. "First Iori-kun's. She said that Iori-kun transferred schools, and that he would probably be too... Too busy to respond to us. She said we shouldn't worry." 

"W-what?!" Eimi yelped. "They, they just... Transferred schools overnight? What did Miyako's mother say?"

"Basically the same thing."

Eimi met Koushiro's gaze, looking stunned. All he could do was stare back. "Where are they attending school now?" he asked. "Did they move?"

Takeru tipped his head, revealing a blue eye rimmed with reddened skin. "I asked. They gave non-answers. I tried to press, but... Well, they started to look like they would cry, and I..."

Eimi nuzzled her head against Takeru's. "I don't understand. Did their moms look scared?"

"Pale," Takeru sighed. "Anxious. Upset. But they never verbally expressed it. They just kept saying that Miyako-san and Iori-kun are fine, and not to worry. But one thing really stood out to me...."

He paused, and Eimi threaded her fingers through his hair. Although her attention was on the younger boy, her eyes were locked on Koushiro's. He knew the horror he saw there was a mirror of his expression.

Takeru drew a reedy breath. "Hida-san is a police officer's widow. So when she looked me in the eye and told me not to try to find Iori-kun..."

Koushiro watched a lump slide down Eimi's throat. She wound both arms around Takeru and whispered, "What did she say? Verbatim."

"I need you to trust me," Takeru quoted. "Iori is safe. For your safety, for the safety of your family and friends, and for the safety of my family... Don't look for him or ask about him.” Takeru paused, turning wet eyes from Eimi to Koushiro. “Then... she told me to take care, and closed the door."

Eimi's chest lurched with short, rapid breaths. Koushiro stood and squished in beside her, turning the sofa into an awkward three-person hug pile. "Relax," he murmured. "You're hyperventilating."

The soft, half-swallowed sounds from Takeru signaled that he was crying. Eimi's eyes welled in sympathy, but Koushiro was too dazed to emote. He stared at the wall, blank-faced, trying to reason through the problem with a frozen, frightened brain.

Eimi wiped her eyes and said, "Something _has_ to be wrong. Why are their families lying to us?"

Koushiro felt as if his brain were a foreign, complicated control panel. He pressed buttons and pulled levers at random, but nothing happened. After extensive trial and error, he managed, "Hida-san told Takeru-kun why. For our safety, and for the safety of the families."

A sob from Takeru stabbed at Koushiro's chest. He untangled himself from Eimi, picked up a tissue box from his desk, and returned, placing it on the nearest coffee table.

"Someone's threatening them, you think?" Eimi asked. Her hold on Takeru morphed from supportive to protective, blocking as much of him off as possible.

Koushiro placed a hand on her shoulder. "I assume that someone is covering up the disappearance of Daisuke-kun's team."

Horrified confusion twisted Eimi's face. Then, she snapped into grim focus, and her gentle features hardened. Briefly, Koushiro grimaced. He knew this face, and, while he could only love its owner, he hated what it signaled. His soft, mild Eimi was raising sword and shield, preparing for battle- when all Koushiro wanted was for her to feel safe.

"Those _agents_." Somehow, even with a voice as sweet as birdsong, Eimi made the word sound like a curse.

Koushiro hated to agree, to affirm Eimi’s fear, but he would never lie to her. "They knew where we were yesterday. Clearly, they're tracking us. Just as clearly, they have knowledge that we don't. Best case scenario, they're protecting Daisuke-kun's team somewhere, and perhaps us."

He paused, struggling to suggest anything more upsetting, but Koushiro could almost see the thoughts coalescing behind Eimi's expressive eyes. "Worst case scenario, they're the ones holding them hostage,” she finished. 

There were darker possibilities, but no one had the heart to mention them.

Takeru drew a wet gasp, then pried himself off Eimi and reached for the tissues. "Do you think they could have... Well, we saw digimon enter our world through the distortions. Do you think it could work the other way?"

Koushiro grimaced. "All gates to the Digital World have been closed for over a year, even to your D-3s. If Daisuke-kun and the others entered through a distortion, they'd be trapped until they found another distortion to exit through. And we couldn't help them without finding a distortion and locking ourselves in the Digital World with them."

Eimi said, "Most of me wants to jump through the first distortion I see, prepared or not. But... We can't just add more stranded Chosen to the list. We need a plan."

Koushiro hoped his relief wasn’t too obvious. He had half-expected Eimi to drop everything to search for Iori and the others, which would likely only make matters worse. "Agreed. And our first step is to talk to Nishijima-sensei. If the agents really are involved, he should be able to tell us something."

"Theoretically, even if they aren't involved in their disappearance, the agency should know their locations," Takeru said. "They knew where to find us."

"But they might not tell us anything," Eimi warned. "They definitely weren't forthcoming last night."

Takeru blew his nose, then stood to throw out the tissue. "Is there really nothing we can do now?"

"I'm sorry," Koushiro replied. "We don't have enough information. For now, we have to hope that, wherever they are, they're together and safe. Hopefully, Nishijima-sensei can tell us more tomorrow, and we'll meet with the others to discuss our options."

Eimi and Takeru stared at him, looking exhausted and wrung-out. "I guess you're right," Eimi said at last. "I don't like it, but... Stars, Iori..."

Takeru unscrewed the lid on his bottle of juice and took a drink. "It's a long shot, but I'll ask Patamon if he's seen any of their digimon recently."

"I hate to bear bad news, but Tentomon and Galemon haven't," Koushiro said. "I know it's difficult, but try to rest for tomorrow. Hopefully, we'll know more then."

Takeru flopped onto the arm chair that Koushiro had used earlier. Eimi slid her had in Koushiro's, and he squeezed it. As much as he wanted to help Daisuke’s team, there was nothing he could do without more intel. For now, his only option was to take care of the people in front of him… But he didn’t know how to do it with anything resembling grace.

"Ah,” he began, shifting uncomfortably. “I realize this is abrupt, but... Takeru-kun, may I ask where you shop for clothing?"

Both Eimi and Takeru ogled at him, then each other, and then him again. "Huh?" Takeru managed.

Koushiro produced a weak smile. "I was hoping to lighten the mood, since we can't do anything right now. Sora-san asked about my outfit last night, and I was embarrassed to admit that my mother still purchases my clothes. I thought I should try shopping for myself, but I don't know where to start."

"Uh, is that all that brought this up?” Takeru asked. “Sora-san's comment?"

Koushiro scratched his head as his smile went sheepish. "Well, actually... Seeing Mimi-san again sparked the idea, too. Shortly after Eimi returned from the states and moved in with my family, she went on a shopping trip with Mimi-san. Afterward, she began to... find her style, I suppose? And she's quite fashionable, as you know."

Eimi dropped her face in her palm as Takeru grinned. "Are you serious! You want to ask Mimi-san to take you shopping?!"

"Er-" The color drained from Koushiro’s face, taking his body heat with it. "Well, uh. I'm not sure if... That might be more than I can handle."

Eimi smiled at last, and suddenly, Koushiro's discomfort was well worth it. "Or afford," she said. "You know, I thought I would pass out when I went shopping with her. She has so much energy, it's ridiculous."

"Keeping up with Mimi-san is a concern," Koushiro replied. "But frankly, I'm also worried about interacting with sales clerks."

After a pause, Eimi squeezed his hand. "I see... Social anxiety with sales clerks is pretty common."

"That's true," Takeru allowed. "A lot of stores have started color-coding their shopping baskets lately. Like, red means the customer wants help from the staff, blue means they want to shop without help."

"I admit that I often have difficulties engaging with strangers. I do fine in restaurants, when my task is straight-forward, but... It's much more difficult when the expectations are open-ended."

He released Eimi, walked to his desk, and picked up his laptop. When he returned to the seating area, he placed the laptop on a coffee table, opened a program, and angled the system so Takeru and Eimi could see the screen.

"I've actually been considering this issue for a while. As I said, I admired Eimi's ability to choose a style for herself-"

"I'm not stylish," Eimi muttered, but Koushiro ignored her.

"-and I want to do the same. This program searches the internet for popular men's fashions. Using the measurements from the sites and my measurements, it approximates how the clothes will look on me."

He moved his fingertip along the touch pad and clicked a button on the screen. "This feature refreshes today's most-viewed clothing."

The screen populated with sales images of shirts, pants, and outfits. Koushiro turned to Eimi and smiled at her shocked expression. "Do you see anything you like?"

"Uh, wow." Eimi leaned closer, mulling over the options. "This is nice," she said, pointing to a slate-gray button down. "Sophisticated."

Koushiro clicked the image, then selected a pair of black jeans. He clicked the largest button on the interface, and a full-body photograph of himself loaded, dressed in the selected items.

"Are you _serious_ ," Takeru demanded.

Eimi's hands flew to her cheeks, cupping her face. "Wow! Koushiro, you could market this! Also, that looks really cute on you."

Koushiro glanced at Takeru's smirk, then colored and cleared his throat. "Ah, um. Well, I'll consider marketing it, but first, I'd like to buy some clothes."

"Right," Eimi agreed. "And listen... Koushiro, this is an amazing tool. I'm really proud of you. But... Picking clothes from this screen to avoid talking to sales clerks won't help you."

"Huh?" Koushiro frowned. "But this way, I can explore my options without speaking to anyone."

An affectionate smile creased Eimi's face. "I know, and that will help your wardrobe. But it won't help your social anxiety. Let's use your program to find a store with clothes you like, and then I'll go with you, okay? You can watch me talk to the clerks and try it yourself. I'll help you."

Takeru lifted a hand. "Can I come? And you should still bring Mimi-san. She can give you tips."

A tickling sensation of panic built in Koushiro's gut. He had mentioned shopping to distract and cheer up Eimi. He hadn't intended to involve Mimi or Takeru in any shopping exploits. "Er..."

Takeru leaned closer, watching Eimi select a few more options. "So, you like a guy who can rock that business-appropriate look?" He smirked and cocked an eyebrow. "Maybe you should dress like Jyou-san, Koushiro-san."

"Oh, stop," Eimi muttered, absently smacking Takeru's knee.

"What happens if you forget to select pants?" Takeru's tone was all innocence, but his wicked smile betrayed him.

A spark of interest lit Eimi's face. Without a word, she covered Takeru's eyes with one hand and reached for the laptop with the other. Koushiro leaped on his opportunity to snatch the computer. His once-icy cheeks went volcanic. "If you must know, I took the picture in a pair of athletic shorts."

"Smart move," Takeru said, still grinning. It was hard to know for sure, but Eimi looked rather disappointed.

"Regardless," Koushiro said loudly, as if volume would drown out past teasing, "I'll text Mimi-san about going shopping."

"And me," Takeru requested.

Although his stomach sank, Kousiro replied, "Alright. I suppose I'll have to make some selections... And Eimi, if you don't mind, I'd like you to pick out some things, too."

Eimi tipped her head. "Honestly, I want to play with the program, but... You should dress how you want, not how you want me to dress you."

"I intend to. But you've bought a few sets that suit my tastes, so-"

Takeru parked his elbows on the coffee table and cupped his face in his upturned hands. "Do tell."

Koushiro's mouth snapped shut so hard that his teeth might have become magnetically attracted. Eimi placed a hand on Takeru's golden head and mussed his hair at the roots. "Quiet, you."

"Alright, alright." Takeru stood and finished his juice. "I should go home. Patamon is waiting."

"That's true," Eimi said. "See you tomorrow. Thanks for... I'm sorry it was so... We'll figure things out, Takeru."

This time, Takeru's smile didn't look convincing. "Yeah. See you."

"Take care," Koushiro said. The boy closed the office door behind him, leaving Eimi and Koushiro alone.

Eimi sighed. "Thanks for cheering us up," she said. "I'm so worried... Stars, their poor parents..."

Koushiro wanted to respond, but didn't know what to say. Being a Chosen Child was almost crushingly difficult at times. Being the parent of a Chosen, watching your child face danger again and again... That couldn't be easy, either.

Eimi's brow lowered above averted eyes. "Still... I don't like that their families are complicit. I'm sure they have their reasons- Iori's mom and grandfather are amazing- but... To play along with whatever story the agents might have told them..."

"They likely have no choice," Koushiro said gently.

Eimi closed her eyes and groaned. "I know. I _hate_ it. I just... your family should take care of you. We should take care of them."

Koushiro hesitated, aware that he had fallen into dicey territory. Roughly three years ago, Eimi's family moved to the United States, where her father was born and raised. The Izumis offered to house Eimi, so she wouldn't have to uproot her life, but her father refused. 

The Anami family moved to a part of an American city with a high crime rate. One of Eimi's new classmates warned her of the recent spike in violent crime following a gang shooting, and Eimi relayed this message to her parents. They took no steps to protect her.

Before long, Eimi was assaulted, escaped her attacker, and vanished into the Dark Ocean due to the resulting emotional stress. Koushiro and the Chosen spent an evening and most of the next day frantic over her safety, not knowing where she was, or if she was safe.

After they found Eimi in the Digital World, she moved in with the Izumis in Odaiba. And while Koushiro was grateful that Eimi was no longer in control of people who hurt her emotionally and failed to prioritize her safety, he knew that the damage lingered. Some part of her had hardened, sharpening her natural caution to wariness and suspicion. And to say that she was protective of the family she had found among the Izumis, the Chosen, and the digimon was an understatement. 

"It will be alright," he said at last. "We'll find them."

Eimi’s tiny smile surprised him. "I know,” she murmured. “You found me, after all."

Although Eimi would never hurt him on purpose, her praise brought back painful memories. The hours when he didn’t know if she was safe, or even alive, were some of the worst in his life. He gripped her hand harder, needing the connection.

Unbidden, he imagined Tentomon and Galemon, awaiting their return in his empty bedroom. "Let me save my work and transfer some files. I want to keep working, but I'd prefer to go home, if you don't mind."

Eimi’s relieved sigh seemed to fill the room. “I’d like that.” Although the office was comfortable and private, which facilitated concentration, Koushiro knew that the apartment was where Eimi felt safest… Especially when Galemon and Tentomon were there. And, if he was honest, he also craved comfort in the face of the disappearance of Daisuke’s team. 

“Then let’s go,” Koushiro said gently.

He tried to ignore how guilty having the ability to go home made him feel.

**XXX**

****

Taichi walked into the lobby of Koushiro's office building the following day, wearing an enormous hiking backpack borrowed from a classmate. The sides were zipped, but the top was undone. Agumon's hot breath puffed in and out of the opening, ruffling Taichi's hair.

Taichi nodded to the receptionist, who was likely accustomed to teens and kids parading in the hyper-professional space by now. He approached the elevator and the intercom beside it, then pressed the number for Koushiro's office.

"Hello!" Tentomon's disembodied voice buzzed. "Koushiro-han and Eimi-han's office!"

Taichi grinned as the sound of harried footsteps grew louder over the speaker. "Tentomon!" Eimi hissed. "Let me answer! The secretary knows Koushiro and me, but she'll wonder who you are!"

"I think she's permanently tuned us out," Taichi replied.

"Taichi!" The relief and pleasure in her voice was warming, but also caused a twinge of anxiety. Taichi knew that Eimi relied on him, trusted him absolutely, a rarity from such a guarded person. And today, he couldn’t provide the answers or reassurances she wanted.

"I want to be helpful," Tentomon said. Although he was staring at a wall and an intercom, Taichi saw Eimi's touched expression.

"Tentomon... Of course you're helpful. But we need to be careful... I'm letting you up, Taichi."

"Thanks."

 _We need to be careful..._ Taichi glanced over his shoulder. A single yellow-orange nostril poked out of the bag, snorting oxygen. In the old days, Taichi would have slapped a hoodie on Agumon and called it good. 

But then, in the old days, his friends at school weren't talking about killing digimon.

The elevator arrived with a ding, and Taichi entered and hit the button for Koushiro's floor. The lift opened to a sleek, black-and-white hallway. He swallowed a grunt. No matter how many times he visited Koushiro's luxurious office, it blew his mind.

He knocked on the door, and Eimi opened it, pushing Tentomon back with one hand. "Welcome!" the digimon cried, and Eimi gave Taichi a suffering look.

"Uh, thanks," Taichi replied. There was a zipping noise, and Agumon's head popped out of the backpack. He made a show of breathing in deeply.

"Could you wait two seconds!" Eimi hissed. She shut the door, then leaned against it, looking exhausted.

"Hi, Tentomon!" Agumon cried. Taichi removed his backpack and lifted Agumon, placing him on the gleaming wooden floor.

Koushiro's office featured a half bath, a kitchenette, a seating area, and a working area. The powder room and kitchenette were to the left as Taichi entered. Beyond the kitchen, a wood paneled wall hosted an enormous television. The wall to his right was mostly glass, providing a view to the climate-controlled servers beyond. A floor-to-ceiling window with blinds served as the wall directly ahead, with two plants in the corners of the room that certainly owed their survival to Eimi.

The seating area directly ahead consisted of four black leather love seats and an armchair arranged around two large coffee tables. Koushiro's desk faced the conference area, but his body was forever blocked by a huge monitor consisting of six individual screens. Eimi's desk was placed in the junction between the window and the glass server wall, but she stood at the kitchenette now, nervously watching Tentomon.

"Uh, Tentomon... I’ll handle the kettle, okay? Can you please prepare a tray of cookies and crackers?"

"Okay, Eimi-han!" Tentomon flew further down the counter and began selecting treats, pulling down boxes with his stubby digits. Eimi didn't quite mask her relieved sigh as she reclaimed the electric kettle and its boiling water.

Agumon clomped into the room and jumped onto a sofa beside Piyomon, who sat on Sora's lap. Hikari and Takeru occupied another loveseat, without their digimon. They had likely arrived together directly from middle school, and didn’t have time to pick them up from home. "Hey," Taichi said, lifting a hand. 

The group returned his greeting. Sora smiled, and Koushiro's head appeared around the edge of his monster monitor. "Hello, Taichi-san. Mimi-san is on the way."

Taichi nodded, then sat on the love seat next to Sora's. Galemon was stretched out on her own loveseat, her cloudy fluke hanging off the edge. She appeared to be sleeping, but Taichi suspected that she heard and analyzed everything... just like Eimi.

"Tea, Taichi?" Eimi called.

"Sure."

"Me, too!" Agumon cried. 

"And me, and me!" Piyomon added.

"She knows, Piyomon," Sora said kindly. "We already gave our order. Would you like any help, Eimi-chan?"

"Nah, I'm good! You talked to Nishijima-sensei after school today, right, Taichi?"

Taichi managed to avoid sighing, but he slumped in his seat. "Yeah. With Yamato. Let's wait for Mimi-chan before I get into it."

Eimi opened her mouth to argue, but thankfully, the intercom buzzed. Tentomon flew to it, practically bursting with excitement, and Eimi sighed.

"Hello! Koushiro-han and Eimi-han's office-"

"Helloooooo, Tentomon! It's Mimi!"

"And Palmon!"

Taichi wasn't sure if the hiss that followed came from the kettle or Eimi. Koushiro's red hair, thick brows, and concerned eyes appeared around the edge of the monitor, suggesting that his girlfriend was the source.

"I'm sure she's disguised Palmon somehow," he said quietly. "It will be fine."

"Let them in, please," Eimi replied.

"Of course! Please come up, you two!" Tentomon said. Eimi grabbed two more mugs and smacked them on the counter, probably with more force than intended.

Shortly after, Mimi entered the office, carrying a completely un-disguised Palmon. "Hey everyone!" she chirped in English. Her digimon parroted her with a much thicker Japanese accent.

"Mimi," Eimi began. Out of the corner of his eye, Taichi saw Sora lift a hand. She shared a look with Eimi, who nodded and fell silent, deferring to Sora. Taichi scowled. Sora was probably the only person who could reign in a scolding Eimi so easily. He was half impressed and half jealous of how damned much respect Sora commanded... But, of course, he respected her just as much as Eimi did, if not more.

"Taichi, you said you have info to share?" Sora said. Taichi glanced at Eimi and watched her weigh concern for Palmon against her hunger for information. He hastened to begin, cutting off her window for starting something with Mimi.

"Uh, yeah. Nishijima-sensei said that those agents really are from the government. It's called the..." He paused and frowned, struggling to recall the exact sequence of similar, formal-sounding words. "National Data Processing Bureau."

"Government digimon and Digital World investigators," was Takeru's insipid translation.

"Basically," Taichi agreed. "Nishijima-sensei said they've been handling digimon incidents for years."

"Handling?" Hikari echoed. Her hands bunched the hem of her uniform’s skirt. "How?"

Koushiro rolled his desk chair to the side, providing a view of his upper body. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You don't suppose they've been fighting digimon that slipped between worlds?"

The dreadful flopping sensation in Taichi’s stomach reminded him of a beached fish. "He was vague, but... I think so."

"Obviously, I don't enjoy hearing that," Koushiro said. "But I am curious as to their arsenal. Do you think one of the agents could be Chosen? Or perhaps they employ a Chosen to fight displaced digimon? Or have... Have they developed weapons suited to..." He glanced at Tentomon, then at Galemon lazing on a love seat, and fell silent.

"None of us would do that!" Mimi cried.

"Agreed," Koushiro replied. "But as we know, the number of Chosen is rising globally..."

"No Chosen would do that," Mimi insisted. "I get that we can't reason with some digimon, so we have to fight them. But most digimon just want to go home."

"Nishijima-sensei mentioned that the Kuwagamon were infected, and that the Bureau can't handle infected digimon,” Taichi said. “Apparently, this infection makes digimon stronger."

"So, while we don’t know how they handled displaced digimon before now… They had no choice but to contact us for help in this case, due to the increased strength of infected digimon," Koushiro murmured. "Did Nishijima-sensei say more about this infection? I assume that’s what the Bureau calls the mutation effect I noticed in the Kuwagamon.”

Taichi shut his eyes, willing himself to recall Daigo's exact words. "Seems like it. He said something like... powerful forces infect the digimon, and then they run wild. He said they don't know what's causing the infection, and they don't know how to cure it."

"Great," Eimi muttered. She approached the coffee table with a tray filled with teacups and distributed them. Tentomon followed with a tray of snacks, and the digimon rushed to it, except for Galemon, who continued to snooze.

Eimi returned to the counter, likely to make a tray for Koushiro. "What about Iori and the others?" she asked.

Taichi winced in anticipation of her reaction. "He said that the Bureau is hiding them for their safety."

Eimi whirled towards him, mouth hanging open. "What does that mean?" Sora asked.

"Wish I knew," Taichi said darkly. "Yamato and I tried to get more out of him, but Nishijima-sensei said that he doesn't have any more info. Just that they're safe and hidden."

Even from across the room, Taichi could see Eimi's trembling. Galemon roused at last, lifting her head to look at her human. "If they're so safe, then why can't we know more? What’s threatening them? Why did they whisk them away from their families?"

Taichi held his hands up, palm-out. "I wish I knew, Eimi. I'm sorry."

Eimi stared at him for a long moment, breathing heavily. Then, she hid her face in her hands and turned back towards the counter. "I'm sorry. It's not your fault. I just..."

"You're worried," Sora said gently. "We know. We all are..."

"So much comes down to whether this Bureau is trustworthy or not," Koushiro said. "It's possible that we're in good hands... But it's possible that we're being used as pawns."

"Or targets," Eimi muttered. She lifted the tea kettle, and it shook. Sora stood and hurried to the counter.

"Please, let me," she said. After a short, murmured exchange, Eimi released the kettle and made a snack tray. She delivered it to Koushiro, then rolled her desk chair beside his and sat. Galemon floated towards her, and she rubbed her partner's head.

"I don't know if we can do anything about Daisuke and the others," Taichi admitted. 

"A government agency will have resources and capabilities that we can't imagine," Koushiro said.

"You're saying we just have to trust them?" Although Eimi’s eyes were hard, they watered, glistening in the office lighting.

"Don’t worry. I'm sure they're nice," Mimi said. "They helped us get to Kuwagamon, right?"

Taichi wasn't sure what to make of the Bureau, himself. He couldn't imagine Daigo doing anything to hurt them, but the agency was much bigger than one agent. He did know that discussing it couldn't go anywhere productive right now, and apparently, Sora did, too. "Did Nishijima-sensei say anything else?" she asked.

"Hmm... He mentioned that a lot more people know about digimon now than they did before. There was the Hikarigaoka incident, Vamdemon in Odaiba, that thing with Diablomon, and all of that other stuff Daisuke's group handled. This isn't a secret anymore... And people- regular people, not us and the Bureau- could try to take action. Maybe even the law."

Hikari frowned. "The Bureau is a government agency. Couldn't they protect us?"

"Maybe they could. Would they?" Taichi shrugged. "I really don't know where we stand."

"That's why we need to be careful," Eimi said. "Right, everyone? We need to protect our partners and each other."

Taichi nodded. "Oh, Nishijima-sensei also mentioned that a lot of his information came from Gennai-san."

Koushiro twitched so hard that he sloshed tea on his desk. "What? _How?!_ I haven't been able to contact Gennsai-san since the Digital World gates closed!"

A deep scowl spread across Eimi's face. "I don't like this. If that's true, it implies that this agency can tap into the Digital World when we can't."

Taichi stared at the pair of visibly rattled researchers. It hadn't even occurred to him that the agency had more of a connection to the Digital World than the Chosen did. It didn't sit well that people who had so much responsibility had so few privileges in return.

"I hate to say it," Takeru muttered, "but that really does make me feel like a pawn."

Mimi smacked a fist against her open hand. "Then we'll take our power back!"

"How?" Koushiro asked. "Believe me, I've tried to contact Gennai-san and open the gates. Extensively."

"We'll figure something out!" Mimi insisted. Taichi caught himself shaking his head and quickly stopped. He didn't mean to belittle Mimi, but how in the world did she expect to overthrow the Bureau or program a sideways entry to the Digital World?

A long, brooding silence filled the room, interrupted only by Agumon's chomps and smacks as he ate. At last, Tentomon said, "Didn't you have something to show everyone, Koushiro-han?"

"Ah!" Koushiro jerked his head up, removing his chin from his hand. "Yes, thank you, Tentomon." He rolled himself back to his computer and raised his voice to be heard around the monitor barrier. Taichi clasped his hands, grinned, and leaned forward. After watching Koushiro work for six years, he knew when he was in for a show.

"Because of the low public opinion of digimon, Eimi and I are concerned about allowing the digimon to travel outside of our homes and this office. I created a virtual cyber space to house and transport them."

Mimi tipped her head, causing a portion of silky hair to cascade over her shoulder. "Huh?"

Koushiro turned to Eimi and smiled. "Would you care to demonstrate?"

"Sure. Tentomon?" Eimi stood, picked up Koushiro's laptop, and placed it on the coffee table nearest Agumon.

Tentomon approached Agumon from behind. "Agumon, could you please put down that cookie?"

"Why?" Agumon asked, although he obeyed.

"I'm not sure what would happen to it."

"What do you-"

Tentomon shoved Agumon into the laptop screen, which sucked him up. Taichi had seen enough people and digimon pass through screens to remain calm, so he just lifted an eyebrow at Koushiro. 

Grinning, Koushiro picked up the remote control on his desk and clicked a button. The massive television on the wall flicked on. Agumon stared at the room with wide, blinking eyes.

"Where am I?" he asked. "Taichi! You're out there!"

"Let me try!" Piyomon cried. She hopped off Sora's lap and jumped through the laptop. A moment later, she wandered into the television display.

"Hi, Sora!"

Sora lifted a hand. "H-hi."

"I've programmed a safe space for our digimon," Koushiro explained. "It's on one of my servers. They're all heavily encrypted and can be accessed only by several layers of passwords, which only I know."

Mimi frowned. "Not even Eimi-chan?"

"We thought it best if I didn't communicate the information to anyone. It's the only way to be sure that no one can eavesdrop somehow."

Taichi scowled at the thought of someone hearing all of this. The last thing they needed in this confusion was someone actively working against them. "They're safe in there?" he asked.

"Completely. Better yet, no infection or corruption can reach them inside of the cyber space. While we’ve only just received confirmation of an infection, I suspected that the Kuwagamon were somehow mutated. I don’t know how this infection spreads, or if it even is contagious. But I've prepared smaller, separate spaces, in case..." He hesitated, then swallowed hard. "In the event that a quarantine is needed."

 _Shit._ If Agumon or one of the others got infected... Taichi threw that thought right out of his brain like yesterday's garbage. "Can they only enter from your laptop?"

"No, that's the convenient part. The digimon can enter and exit this safe space from any screen connected to the internet."

"Wow!" Mimi cried. "That's amazing, Koushiro-kun!"

Koushiro peeked around the monitor, displaying an embarrassed grin. "Thank you. I regret that we need it, however."

"I call it the Safe House," Eimi said. "We can upload our partners to the Safe House, go home, and take them out from our personal computers. You just need Koushiro to approve the transfer." 

"That's great!" Sora said. "Thanks, you two."

"I get that it's safer," Mimi said. "But... Palmon likes being outside."

"I know it's not ideal," Koushiro said. "But given the dangers of infection and the public... Well, I hope you'll agree to use it."

"If you think it's best, then I will," Tentomon said.

A weight seemed to fill the room in the pause that followed. Taichi used his peripheral to glance from face to face. Were his friends absorbing the uncertainty of the situation? He understood why everyone wanted to behave the way they did in Tokyo in 1999, when people didn’t know much about digimon, there was no infection, and they were too young to really understand the possible consequences of their actions.

But now… Now, things were different, and Taichi knew they had the maturity to see it. 

But did they have the maturity to face it?

Koushiro stroked his chin. "Hmm... Normally, I'd ask Eimi to summarize this meeting and send an e-mail to everyone, but the intel is too sensitive to risk that way... Can I ask you to disseminate the information? In person is best."

The group split up information-spreading duties, then loaded the remaining digimon to the Safe House. Although he knew this was smarter, Taichi hated leaving the office without Agumon.

Taichi, Mimi, Takeru, Hikari, and Sora left the office and entered the elevator. "I don't like this," Mimi said. "If our digimon are here, then we should be together."

"It's for the best," Sora said gently.

Taichi said nothing, but his awareness of the need for caution kept expanding. 

How long would it take to crush him and the Chosen?

**Author's Notes:**

Poor kids, they really don't want to leave the 02 kids alone... But, like... What can they do, storm a government/secret agency building that likely doesn't even have the kids there? We'll see Koushiro consider some possible leads next time. Then, the kids will search Odaiba for distortions!

Thank you for reading, please remember to review! I'll see you in two weeks.


	5. Saikai: Questions

**Tri: Integrity Lens**

****

_Saikai: Questions_

Koushiro sat in his dark bedroom, listening. Eimi, Galemon, and his parents were sleeping. The only sounds were the humming of his computer and Tentomon's buzzy snores from the foot of his bed.

Tentomon tried his best to stay awake until Koushiro was asleep, knowing that his human stayed up too late. But sometimes, he would drift off, lulled by a full stomach, the dark of night, and the familiar sounds of Koushiro’s clicking and typing. On those nights, Koushiro got away with working into the small hours of the morning.

And tonight, Koushiro wanted to investigate alone, undisturbed, without anyone’s worry beating down on him- no matter how warranted that worry was.

Quietly, he opened a desk drawer and extracted his old Pineapple laptop, the one he carried during his first adventures in the Digital World. Because of Gennai's modifications, Koushiro was loathe to replace it when it began to slow. And although he was logical and practical, Koushiro wasn't without a sense of sentimentality for the tool that was a lifeline in the Digital World. Still, despite his upgrades and repairs, new technology eventually made the old Pibook redundant. 

Koushiro had copied Gennai's software alterations over to his new laptop and tried to replicate the hardware changes. But so far, he hadn't figured out how to transfer the digivice port Gennai added to his Pibook. And so, he booted up the old system and waited while it laboriously chugged through waking and loading.

When the laptop was finally ready, he ran the digivice tracking program he had created during his time in the Digital World, then plugged his digivice into the port Gennai installed. A map of Odaiba loaded, displaying ten colored dots. The purple, gray, and white dots were located in Odaiba mansion, showing the rough locations of himself, Jyou, and Eimi. Taichi, Hikari, Sora, and Yamato were displayed in Odaiba Kaihin Koen. Mimi was in a separate apartment complex, the new one she and her family had recently moved into.

Takeru's yellow dot should have been joined by a half gray, half purple dot and a half green, half red one… But it was alone.

Koushiro swallowed a sigh, pinched his eyes shut, and rubbed his forehead hard enough to ache. The digivices came loaded with a program that could locate other digivices locally. They were connected independently of any human-made network, using a mysterious component unique to them; his program simply amplified the range of the connection and provided maps and display options. In theory, Koushiro could find any Chosen in the world with a digivice using his program and the port on his old Pibook. 

If his program could be trusted, then Daisuke, Miyako, Iori, and Ken weren't anywhere on earth.

The next logical place to search was the Digital World. His program and the digivices couldn't communicate over the distance between worlds. A digivice on earth could only “talk to” other digivices on earth, and a digivice in the Digital World could only “talk to” other digivices in the Digital World. In theory, a quick trip to the Digital World could tell him _exactly_ where Daisuke and the others were...

But the gates to the Digital World had been shut for a year, even to the D-3s.

Koushiro crossed his arms and leaned back, willing himself to think. According to Nishijima, the Bureau was hiding Daisuke and the others. But, unless they had access to technology that interfered with Koushiro's digivice locating program... Then the kids weren't on earth. 

But how in the world had the Bureau entered the Digital World to hide Daisuke if the gates were closed?

_Nishijima-sensei claimed that the Bureau has been in contact with Gennai-san, even though I can't reach him..._

Koushiro dearly wanted to pace, but was unwilling to risk waking Tentomon. He kept offering Eimi reasons why the younger kids were likely fine, mostly to keep her calm and on task, and also because he knew Daisuke's team could handle themselves. 

But as evidence mounted, his own reassurances began to wear thin.

At first, he assumed his program's inability to locate Daisuke was related to the distortions and their impact on technology. Now that the lingering effects of the last distortion seemed to have dispersed, the only explanations he could conceive were:

1.) The younger kids were in the Digital World somehow, or

2.) Something was interfering with his program

Explanation one was technically possible. The younger kids could theoretically have entered the Digital World through a distortion, then found themselves locked in. But in that case, how were they in the Bureau's custody?

Explanation two was not only possible, but had occurred before. His program could not conclusively locate a digivice under one of Galemon's shields. It was possible that there were other ways to interrupt communication between Koushiro's digivice, docked in the Pibook and running data into his system, and other digivices.

Distortions were the most likely interference candidate in theory... But his program could locate the original nine Chosen without issue, including Takeru and Hikari's D-3s. Which suggested that, if the younger kids were on earth in the Bureau's care, then the Bureau was shielding their location somehow. 

_Could Daisuke-kun and his team really be in that much danger? And how would the Bureau block communication between digivices? And why?! And if there_ _’s such a great threat to Daisuke-kun, then how much danger are all of the Chosen around the world in?_

Koushiro stared at the Pibook display, still looking for signals that weren't there. _I don't know enough. And no matter how many explanations I pursue, I hit dead ends. All I know for certain is that we aren't safe._

He ran his palms down his face, then rubbed his eyes. It was nearly 1 AM. Koushiro was used to working later than this, but he was beginning to feel the strain of the recent stressors. Thoughts and ideas sparked in his neurons, but never quite made the leap to the next, derailing signals. He was missing something obvious, something-

_Wait. Nine Chosen. Ten dots._

Koushiro gave his head a rough shake, then counted the dots on his screen. There were _two_ white dots. All digivices unassociated with crests- which was to say, most digivices, since only the Japanese team had crests and the ability to evolve past the adult stage- were displayed in white. Koushiro had added a rainbow sheen to Eimi’s dot, like an opal, to differentiate it. Her dot was beside his purple one, almost overlapping it, with Jyou’s close by. 

An additional white dot was in Taichi’s apartment complex in Odaiba Kaihin Koen, Odaiba’s seaside park.

 _A new Chosen?!_ Koushiro wanted to burst from his chair, grab his cell phone, flop onto Eimi’s bed, and get everyone on a secure group call… Which wasn’t feasible at this hour. He suppressed a groan. Why had he insisted on checking his old program alone, again?

 _So I could consider the data and make followup inquiries before upsetting anyone._ Staring at the tenth dot, an unknown Chosen so close to several of his friends, Koushiro swallowed hard. He was beginning to understand that there might not be time to consider everyone’s feelings. Not anymore.

Normally, a new Chosen wouldn’t have surprised him. Most new Chosen either found older Chosen or were found by older Chosen, since the signs of a child hiding a digimon were obvious to anyone familiar with those struggles. Those existing Chosen pointed newcomers to Takeru’s Chosen blog, which funneled them to Koushiro- and the network of resources he had created for the expanding global team.

But to find a newcomer in Taichi’s apartment complex _now_ , with everything going on…

 _When do I alert the international Chosen to the distortion issue? Is that safe? Is this confidential information?_ Koushiro had never worried about checking in with government agencies before sharing intel among the Chosen before. Why could he have? He didn’t know there _were_ any. _And they_ _’ve likely been handling digimon incidents for years, without any of us the wiser…_

Koushiro placed his old Pibook on his desk and turned to his desktop. With shaking hands, he tried to open his inbox. He kept emailing his contacts, anyone he thought might have answers, always wary of telling people too much. He scanned a few new responses, heart pounding, but found no useful intel.

Then, for the millionth time, he opened a pre-written draft and sent it to Gennai's email address. After a few tense seconds, a 'failed to deliver' message popped into his inbox.

Weary on every level, Koushiro shut down his systems, unplugged his digivice from his Pibook, and stored the old laptop. Then, he slipped into bed, careful not to wake Tentomon.

Despite the late hour, he listened to his partner's buzzy snores for a long time before drifting off.

**XXX**

Daigo sat on the floor, working at a low table against the windows in the calligraphy classroom. His inked brush was poised over thick paper as he waited for the right moment to act. The desire to write itched in his fingertips, but no particular word whispered in his mind.

He scowled, then lowered the brush to a sheet of waste paper. Some things just couldn't be forced.

There was a knock on the classroom door, and Daigo shook his head and turned. "Yes?"

The door slid open, revealing Anami Eimi, a first year student- and, more pressingly, a Chosen. At a glance, she read as large and plain- save for the sweet, airy voice that called, "Excuse me. May I come in?"

"Of course." Daigo produced an easy grin, despite a sting of uneasiness. Training in reading people was standard among Bureau field agents, but his background was far more comprehensive than average to prepare him to monitor the Chosen. He read nothing but polite interest from Eimi… But there was no reason for her to visit him if she truly _was_ calm and steady, especially since he had already shared intel with Taichi and Yamato.

He had no idea what she might be thinking, nor how a sixteen-year-old could dissemble so well.

Daigo waited for Eimi to close the door and approach before speaking, so that he wouldn't have to raise his voice. Although he doubted anyone would bother eavesdropping on their goofy calligraphy teacher, there was no reason to push his luck. 

"Let's sit here." He stood, moved to one of the circular tables the students used during calligraphy class, and sat. Eimi sat opposite him and placed her school satchel beside her.

When she seemed settled, he said, "I assume you're not here for a lesson." Eimi's creative elective class was music, not calligraphy. He smiled, hoping that Eimi's polite mask would mellow in return.

If anything, his efforts seemed to backfire. Her brown eyes captured his with an emotional intensity that momentarily held him captive. "I'm worried about Iori and the others," she said. "Please... Is there anything else you can tell me about them?"

Daigo resisted the urge to sigh. The Bureau monitored all of the Chosen, but Daigo was assigned to the kids at this high school. He didn't know nearly as much about Daisuke, Miyako, Iori, and Ken as he did about Taichi, Yamato, Sora, Koushiro, and Eimi. He was still reading the intel on Mimi and Mochizuki Meiko, recent transfers to the school, and Takeru and Hikari weren’t currently under his watch. 

But though he lacked responsibility for the other Chosen, and though the Bureau was taking care of Daisuke’s team... He couldn't help worrying for them. The Bureau discouraged agents growing fond of their charges, but as far as Daigo could tell, they were all good kids, carrying a lot on their shoulders. How could he not root for them? 

"They're safe in the Bureau's custody,” he said, repeating his organization’s official stance. “That's all I know."

Eimi's lips thinned as her eyebrows lowered. Although she posed no threat to him, a trained agent, Daigo stiffened. Something about that determined expression set his instincts on alert.

Well before any distortion events, the Bureau had placed Daigo at this school to monitor the Chosen- and to learn about them. His agency maintained detailed dossiers on all thirteen children: their habits, grades and achievements, clubs and hobbies, where they spent their free time. Daigo knew plenty of surface info about Eimi. He knew that she was in a vocal performance club before she started working with Koushiro, and that the two of them were dating. He knew she excelled in school, that she took the occasional self defense class, that she was a novice guitar player. 

More poignantly, he knew that she moved to the United States a while back and was assaulted there. Hell, he was the agent assigned to cover up her disappearance in the states and reappearance in Japan, and to convince the middle school to accept a student who had missed a chunk of the academic year. He knew about her separation from her family, about the rivet-shaped scar on her left palm, and about the therapy she still underwent to process it all.

And even with all of that intel, she was the Chosen Child that the Bureau knew the least about. As a government agency, they had access to Eimi's cell phone and emails. They knew more about most of these kids than anyone could possibly use, courtesy of their texts and phone calls. But Eimi used Koushiro's secure network for most communications, and, much to their chagrin, no one in the Bureau could break into it, not without alerting him. 

Daigo was Taichi and Sora's homeroom teacher, and now Meiko's, too, providing ample opportunities to learn about them in person. Eimi, Koushiro, and Mimi weren't in his classes, so he interacted with them less. From what he could tell, Eimi was reasonably well-liked by her peers, but didn't seem to have many friends. He didn't overhear much chatter from or about her.

In a way, the comparative lack of information on her was telling. That kind of awareness and restraint was rare in adults, let alone teenagers. _Hell, she'd probably make an amazing agent someday..._

But, while Eimi excelled in controlling her words, her eyes were another matter. They screamed of her distrust... and Daigo was specifically selected to work with these kids because of his disarming, friendly nature. He was meant to be a kind face standing between the kids and a group that had to seem unknown and possibly intimidating to them.

"How am I supposed to accept that Iori and the others are safe without proof?" Despite the storm in her eyes and the blunt words, Eimi's tone was polite, crisp. It reminded Daigo of recordings of Koushiro sharing intel with contacts from a few years ago, before he established security that the Bureau couldn't crack.

Daigo allowed his genuine concern to show, hoping to soften his words. "I'm afraid agents can't question official agency intel... especially low-level grunts, like me."

Usually, self-deprecating humor relaxed listeners by implying that they were in a safe, nonjudgmental space. However, the politeness melted from Eimi's expression as a scowl dominated her features. "You don’t feel the need to check on them yourself?"

And, for just a second, Daigo's pleasant mask slipped. A muscle ticked near his mouth, marring his soothing smile. Orders were orders, and intel was intel... But truthfully- and _privately_ \- he had his doubts about the Bureau's statement on Daisuke's team. Furthermore, although he hadn’t confirmed anything, Eimi somehow tricked him into implying that he hadn’t seen the kids himself- which was, unfortunately, true.

He folded his hands on the table, giving himself a moment to calm down and think. "Agents have to follow orders and believe the intel we receive. Otherwise, the whole operation falls apart. We have no choice."

The girl opposite him stared for a few beats, still and unreadable. Then, she closed her eyes and murmured, "We _always_ have a choice."

 _Crest of integrity, huh._ Frankly, Daigo didn't know what to think. Part of him was furious that this kid was talking down to him, without having any idea what belonging to a secret agency was like. Another scolded himself, because he knew that being Chosen, being a child in such a unique and difficult position, trumped any other challenge he’d faced.

"I'm glad you think so," he said at last. "And I hope you continue to see things that way. But the adult world can be... complex."

Eimi tsked and shifted, as if she intended to stand. Her foot started bouncing, suggesting that she longed to move. "We understand complex, thanks."

Daigo inclined his head, allowing her point. This failed to soften Eimi, who continued, "So, to be clear: you won't tell me anything about Iori and the others."

"There's nothing more I _can_ say," Daigo repeated. He filed away that Eimi seemed to favor Iori; most agents referred to the four children in protective custody as 'Motomiya-kun's group,' since he was the leader. It was a small tidbit, but adding to Eimi's dossier was valuable.

Eimi ran a hand through her hair and exhaled slowly. Her signs of agitation decreased, but she never quite restored the level of calm that she opened this conversation with. "Then may I ask you something else?"

 _Oh, you're asking permission now?_ Daigo fought to keep the amusement out of his tone. "Ask what you want. If I can answer, I will."

She didn't thank him. He didn't expect her to.

"The Bureau clearly has more information about this... distortion and infection situation than the Chosen. Why aren't we being briefed? We have to ask for intel to receive it, and you're still withholding when we do."

Daigo stared at Eimi, unsure what to make of her directness. She wasn't being rude, but... Well, Taichi and Yamato had approached him as an ally, asked questions respectfully, and accepted his answers.

 _Whatever familiarity and trustworthiness I have with the others doesn_ _’t apply to Anami-kun._ Another little nugget for the dossier- and maybe not such a small one, after all.

"Again," he began, in a politely detached tone that was much more convincing than Eimi's current attempts, "I've told you all I know. Regardless, the Chosen are minors. You aren't responsible for worrying about distortions, infections, or digimon attacks. And it certainly isn't your responsibility to track down missing persons- and there _aren't_ any."

And, at last, the restraint that seem preternatural in a teenager snapped. Eimi slammed a palm against the table, eyes wide and furious. "Not responsible for- You practically _kidnapped_ Koushiro and me from a restaurant to fight infected digimon! What is your agency planning to do if one of us is identified while we're fighting on your behalf? What will you do if the police take us in for questioning?! If the government holds us responsible for property damage or injuries? You're letting minors do your dirty work, and still, you won't tell us everything. Will you protect us when things go wrong?"

Eimi fell silent at last, save for her loud breathing. Daigo watched her hand tremble against the table and knew that her words came from fear... Fear he couldn't blame her for. He didn’t bother pointing out that his people constantly removed evidence risking the identity of the Chosen from the internet, nor that they had stood between the Chosen and the law before. This was partially because that was classified, partially because he doubted it would soothe Eimi… But mostly because he had no way of knowing what the agency might do in the future regarding the Chosen. Frankly, that was above his pay grade.

He also recognized that misdirection and soothing half-truths wouldn't work on Eimi. Most people hungered to hear that everything was fine and under control from an authority figure- people were almost alarmingly easy to placate. What was he supposed to do with a kid who demanded the truth, even if it was dangerous and painful? 

He was still mulling it over when Eimi grabbed her satchel, opened it, and removed a tablet pc. Daigo blinked, amazed at the quality of the device. While tablets weren’t new, they certainly weren’t common… A reminder of Eimi’s connections to technology, information, and a network of contacts, via Koushiro.

Daigo watched, bemused, as she poked the screen, navigating menus. When she placed the device on the table and turned it towards him, he found himself staring at an image of Motomiya Daisuke in a soccer uniform, surrounded by his team mates. He was sweaty, dirty, and smiling enormously.

"I'm sure you know," Eimi said, "but that's Daisuke. He's kind of infuriating, because he follows his gut- and somehow, that always works out. He believes in everyone, and he always thinks things will be okay."

Eimi swiped the screen, and Miyako filled the display, sitting beside Koushiro at a computer. "That's Miyako. She's really smart- she's part of Koushiro's old middle school computer club. She's fun and dynamic and has so much energy, it's really hard to keep up with her."

Another flick of her hand, another image. This time, Ichijouji Ken glanced up at the viewer with a tiny smile. He was kneeling, offering food to a group of baby level digimon swarming his feet. Eimi stared at the photo with Daigo, then drew a deep breath.

“That’s Ken. He… He’s quiet and soft and… kind.” She cleared her throat, then swallowed hard. “Digimon like him.”

Since Eimi’s focus was on her photos, Daigo slid his gaze to her face. The big brown eyes that seemed so determined this whole time were glazed with liquid now. They blinked rapidly, struggling to prevent tears from spilling over.

Her shaking hand drew his attention, and the display changed again. This time, Eimi was in the photo, too, beaming at the photographer. Her arm was around Iori’s shoulders. He was sweaty and laughing, holding a kendo helmet, his head still wrapped in a tenugui.

“That’s… that’s…” The words were wet and trembling. Eimi paused, visibly struggling to pull herself together. A few tears spilled over and dripped down her reddening cheeks.

Daigo stood, grabbed the closest tissue box, and returned. He handed it to Eimi, and she took a sheet and wiped her face. “Hida Iori,” Daigo said softly. “By all accounts, a great kid.”

After a long pause, Eimi lowered her tissue and slid her tablet back across the table. Voice hoarse, she said, “Please. They're kids, and they're in trouble, and no one will tell me how to help them. And I know you want to say that I'm just a kid, too, and brush me off... And I am. But I'm also a Chosen, and… I think you know what that means."

Daigo’s heart thumped. Surely it wasn’t possible- how could Eimi know that he was once a Chosen, too? But she continued on, packing her tablet into her school bag. “It means… We’re a team. When one of us is in trouble… All of us are in trouble.”

“If I hear anything more, I’ll let you know.” The words were professional, because they had to be. If Daigo said anything else, he risked emphasizing with the girl hurting in front of him- a girl who missed her friends. As a Chosen separated from his digimon partner, he knew that feeling far too well. It would be too easy to tell her something that he shouldn’t.

With visible effort, Eimi pulled herself together. Though her face remained a blotchy red, her expression was almost neutral. “Speaking of all of us… There’s a new Chosen in Odaiba Kaihin Koen. I don’t suppose you’re clear to tell us anything about that?”

Despite his best efforts, Daigo’s eyebrow twitched up, betraying his surprise. There was no reason to be shocked- it wasn’t a stretch that Koushiro could potentially locate Chosen. Still, even after years of observing Koushiro, Daigo never could wrap his brain around a first year who could outmaneuver an entire government organization _without even knowing it existed_.

But then, if Koushiro could track Chosen… Why was Eimi so concerned about Daisuke’s team? Surely, Koushiro could point her to where the kids were being held in protective custody. The kids were too sensible to storm a secret government facility- _hopefully_ \- but at least they could confirm the Bureau’s story, in theory. 

With intense effort, Daigo dropped that line of thinking, along with the sense of discomfort and uncertainty it elicited. _Maybe I_ _’m over-thinking. Mochizuki-kun could have found Takaishi-kun’s blog and introduced herself._

The Bureau had recently relocated Mochizuki Meiko from Tottorri to Odaiba- and to Daigo’s school. Daigo knew that his organization had been interested in Meiko’s digimon partner for years, but he wasn’t privy to details. Evidence pointed to Meiko and Meicoomon somehow being involved in the distortion events, but again, that was above his pay grade until his boss was told otherwise. 

His head was spinning, so Daigo said, “No,” limiting his capacity to accidentally reveal information. “How did you meet them?”

Eimi finally smiled, but it was grim, almost hard. She nodded and stood. “I see. Thanks for your time.” With that, she turned and saw herself out of the calligraphy classroom, quietly closing the door behind her.

Daigo remained seated at the table for a long time. It didn’t escape his notice that Eimi was choosing to withhold information from him- information that would, of course, end up in her dossier, or in a direct report to his superior. He couldn’t help feeling a little ruffled and off-put by their discussion, but then…

Eimi just did exactly what a minor _should_ do in times of trouble- turn to a knowledgeable adult for help. And wasn’t that why the Bureau placed him here? To help the Chosen? Or was he really just here to report on them, and to make sure they didn’t abuse their power or have some kind of breakdown?

Was that last thing already happening?

Daigo shook his head, forcing off his stupor. He moved to his desk, where he was trying to practice calligraphy when Eimi entered. He cleaned, inked, and lifted his brush. This time, the strokes flowed without hesitation, forming the symbols for _formidable_.

He left the calligraphy piece to dry overnight and prepared to return home. At least one thing had come out of this exhausting interview: He had plenty to add to Anami Eimi’s dossier.

 **Author** **’s Notes:**

Sorry for breaking my update schedule. I ended up adding this chapter last second, during Nanowrimo, like a dummy (I didn’t have time to draw or grab screen shots for this reason). I have two more updates fully prepared, so you will see them on roughly 11/28-29 and 12/12-13.

After that, this story will go on temporary hold while I edit _Four Years_ content written during Nanowrimo. While I post _Four Years_ updates, I will be working on _Ketsui_ content for this story. When that is done, I will post the _Ketsui_ updates every other weekend, like I did for _Saikai_.

So! This chapter is really different, isn’t it? I think the Bureau is so interesting, and I’m dying to know what they were up to before they introduced themselves to the Chosen, and after the events of Tri. I also want to know what Daigo might have been thinking and feeling.

I should point out that a lot of the lore here- Koushiro’s tracking program and how it works, the Japanese Chosen being the only Chosen with crests and evolutions past adult, info about the Bureau provided by Daigo, and even what Daigo knows and doesn’t know here- is all my invention. Please don’t refer to it as canon elsewhere- people will be like, “Wait, what?”

In Tri, Daigo actually knew that Daisuke’s team was missing, and that Meicoomon was linked to distortions. He didn’t tell the Chosen because Maki ordered him not to. He asks her why, and she makes up bullshit reasons- “They will find out in time/They can’t help the younger kids, so don’t worry them about it/I want Meiko to be able to make friends with the Chosen.” But the viewer later learns that Maki has her own agenda that Daigo and the Chosen aren’t aware of.

I wanted Daigo to be more involved and concerned from earlier on, and to have more deniability about why he didn’t just… Give the Chosen info that could have prevented so much danger and heartache. Can’t tell them what he doesn’t know! But Eimi takes issue with that, too!

I know this update was suuuuuper expositiony, but I had a blast thinking about how the Bureau might see the kids and approach dealing with them. I hope you liked it, too! Please leave me a comment :D NANOWRIMO IS HARD, FUEL ME.


	6. Saikai: Alphamon Appears

**Tri: Integrity Lens**

_Saikai: Alphamon Appears_

Taichi sat on the floor of his bedroom in the late afternoon, watching a soccer match on his laptop with Agumon. He received a video call request from Koushiro, and his heart fumbled a beat, then revved into heightened motion, as if to make up for it. Was there another attack?!

He paused his video and accepted the call. Koushiro’s face filled the screen, looking troubled, but more or less calm. “Anything major?” Taichi asked.

Agumon squished in between Taichi and the laptop. “Hi, Koushiro! Tentomon!”

“Hello, Agumon!” Tentomon buzzed in the background. Koushiro glanced away from the screen with a tiny grin before focusing back in.

“No emergencies,” Koushiro said, and Taichi released a ragged breath. “I’m sorry if I startled you.”

“Nah.” Taichi patted Agumon’s head, then gently pushed him aside, giving himself more room. Agumon rested his head on Taichi’s lap, positioning a single green eye at Koushiro.

“I’m afraid I only have a few minutes to spare, so I’ll be brief. Ah- Eimi and Galemon are also in the office.”

A distant, “Hey, Taichi!” sounded from the background, accompanied by the sweet tinkling of bells. Taichi nodded, but didn’t bother responding. Besides, Agumon shouted a greeting loud enough for both of them.

Taichi rubbed the ear closest to Agumon as Koushiro continued, “Eimi has written a brief report on both of our recent findings- mine from my digivice tracking program and hers from speaking to Nishijima-sensei.”

There was motion behind Koushiro, and then Eimi bent forward, placing her face in view of Koushiro’s camera. “I didn’t get much out of him…”

Taichi blinked. “Yamato and I just talked to him, though?”

Koushiro glanced from the camera to Eimi, who was scowling, and placed a hand on her upper arm. Taichi couldn’t read what passed between them, but Eimi nodded and fell silent, deferring to Koushiro. “We had some more questions, but the particulars are in the report. But I have a question for you, and perhaps Sora-san and Yamato-san, before I send the email over a secure connection.”

Taichi frowned. He didn’t quite understand what was going on, but he knew that Eimi was unhappy about it. “Okay?” he said, but his cocked eyebrow added, _Koushiro, what the hell?_

Koushiro inclined his head, accepting both questions. “In short, my digivice tracking program indicates that Daisuke-kun and his team aren’t in our world, or that something is interfering with the signals between digivices. Furthermore, it indicates that there is an unknown Chosen in your apartment complex.”

Taichi was woefully unaware of his mouth popping open, even when a tiny giggle leaked through Eimi’s lips. “Another Chosen?” Agumon asked. “That means more digimon! Taichi, can we play?”

“Agumon,” Eimi murmured. Taichi stared, struggling to process the tension on her face. “Oh, I hope it’s a friend, too…”

Koushiro squeezed her shoulder, then turned focused eyes back to Taichi. “Normally, a new Chosen would be cause for celebration. But, with the timing and the location… There’s reason to be wary. Have you noticed anyone moving in recently?”

“Yeah,” Taichi replied, without hesitation. Koushiro and Eimi glanced at one another, then back at him. Taichi shrugged. “You remember that new girl? Um… Mochizuki. She just moved to my complex. She’s in my class, too.”

“The one who transferred to our school on the same day as Mimi?” Eimi asked. Taichi nodded. “Wow… It was already so weird that they transferred in on the same day, in the middle of a school year.”

Koushiro’s brow furrowed as he lifted a hand to his chin. “Odd… I expected a new Chosen to be younger. I suppose she’s not necessarily new, however; just new to the area.”

“But she’s not a known Chosen,” Eimi said. “Why come here, all of a sudden?”

“We don’t know it’s her,” Taichi pointed out. Koushiro sighed, then placed his hands back on his keyboard.

“That’s true. The timing is suspicious, but we don’t have any proof. We should decide as a unit how to proceed.”

Taichi nodded. “Yeah. Send the email, I guess. I want to know more about the digivice tracking program, too.”

“Alright. You haven’t noticed any other people recently moving in?” Taichi shook his head, and Koushiro glanced up at Eimi. “Add the info about Mochizuki-san and send the email, please.”

“Sure. Bye, Taichi.” Taichi lifted a hand as Eimi vanished. 

“Bye, Eimi!” Agumon hollered. 

“They can hear you,” Taichi said weakly, although frankly, he could barely hear himself over the buzzing in his ears. “Just talk normally.”

Koushiro was smiling, damn him. “Thanks for your time. I’ll see you tomorrow at Palette Town.”

Taichi grunted. Frankly, he would rather spend an afternoon off lazing around than doing digimon stuff, but he understood how volatile the situation was. Or, at least, he thought he did. 

Unfortunately, at age seventeen, he already knew that some situations weren’t knowable, or even understandable, until after the fact- if that.

He and Agumon said goodbye. The call disconnected, but Taichi stared at the blank chat service window for a few beats. “Taichi?” Agumon asked, flopping onto his lap. “Do you want to watch more soccer?”

“Huh?” Truthfully, Taichi wanted to think- but he already knew that no amount of considering their situation would change anything. If Agumon wanted to do something, they might as well do that.

“Sure.” He switched back to the video and turned it on. Agumon cuddled into him, getting comfortable. Taichi wrapped his arms around him and stared at the screen, but his thoughts were far away from the game.

**XXX**

__

Eimi and Koushiro walked the sidewalks of Odaiba on a sunny Saturday afternoon. Eimi wanted to look forward to today’s outing with the Chosen, but it was difficult when Koushiro kept yawning and abruptly shaking his head.

"I told you not to stay up all night," Eimi said for the fifth time, at least.

Koushiro turned bleary eyes to her. The dark spots beneath them were familiar, and hated. "Did you read that book on sleep research I recommended?” Eimi pressed. “It says sleep is the most important aspect of physical health, then diet, then exercise."

Privately, Eimi added that Koushiro's diet, which consisted of nothing but tea unless Kae or Eimi interceded, needed help, and that his nonexistent exercise was an issue, too. But sleep was the most important battle, her hill to die on.

Because she didn't want to see Koushiro degrade, or even die, well before she did.

His eyes narrowed against the early afternoon sun. "I got three hours.”

Fury rocked her, sizzling down her nerves. Eimi remained silent and focused on walking until she regained some semblance of control. In a tight voice, she said, "Teens are supposed to get nine to ten hours."

"Not possible," Koushiro muttered to the concrete underfoot.

"Eight, minimum," Eimi persisted.

He adjusted the sling backpack thrown over his shoulder. "We need warning of impending distortions. This is important-"

"So are you!" Eimi didn’t choose those words, and she certainly didn’t intend for her voice to croak and break over them. Koushiro's mouth snapped shut. Eimi shivered, blinking back unwanted tears. She hated how angry she was lately, how volatile, how vulnerable. 

Koushiro reached towards her face, but stopped short of wiping away the forming tears. "I'm sorry,” he murmured, gripping the strap of his backpack. "I'll nap when we return home."

A nap was just a band-aid, but Eimi didn't think she'd receive further concessions. This was a common argument, the only thing they really disagreed over. Despite the evidence she showed Koushiro about the importance of sleep, despite asking nicely, nagging, and downright begging, he continued to neglect rest. They usually approached the issue with relative calm, but clearly, things were spiraling under the weight of strained emotions.

A stiff silence lingered. Sighing, Eimi stared at the K patch she had handsewn onto the upper arm of his sweater. Koushiro had ordered clothes using his program, but when the items arrived, he mentioned that everything was too plain. The patch was Eimi's solution, and she had attached it while he worked on his latest invention. When Eimi finished and went to bed, he promised her and Tentomon that he'd turn in soon. Of course, she didn't define five hours later as ‘soon’.

The meeting place outside of Palette Town came into view. Eimi tried to cheer up, tried to smile, but she wasn’t confident that her attempt was convincing. Sora and Mimi were already waiting. Koushiro and Eimi joined them, and soon, Taichi, Hikari, and Takeru arrived.

"I told Aniki to come, but I'm not sure that he will," Takeru said. 

Taichi sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. "Can you catch him up?" Takeru nodded, and Taichi turned to Koushiro.

Eimi couldn't help scowling. Of course she knew why everyone relied on Koushiro for Digital World things. And she knew that, even if everyone begged him not to, Koushiro would keep researching, programming, studying. But the fact that it was an unstated expectation... 

Did anyone else think about the burden that Koushiro carried?

Koushiro removed his sling backpack and unzipped it. He extracted a pair of goggles and held them up. "I've modified the lenses to visualize data aggregates. Large masses represent potential distortions."

There was a general murmur of shock, but Eimi didn't feel the pride that praise of Koushiro’s skills normally elicited. "What- seriously?!" Taichi sputtered. "How- no, don't bother."

Koushiro grinned and handed the goggles over. "Try them. This button activates distortion viewing."

Taichi pulled the band over his head and settled the lenses over his eyes. Eimi wondered if this moment should have been nostalgic. Mostly, she wanted to go home and rest.

Taichi glanced around. "I don't see- wait!" He stepped towards a bank window. "There are colors around the ATMs..."

"They're connected to the internet," Koushiro said. 

Taichi nodded. "Makes sense. So if we walk around, we might be able to see a distortion."

"Or potential future sites," Koushiro agreed.

A tiny frown formed beneath Sora’s concerned mahogany eyes. "Koushiro-kun... This is so impressive, and we really appreciate it. But are you taking care of yourself? You look exhausted."

Eimi's head whipped up. Sora caught her eye and offered a tiny smile, which Eimi returned. "I'm fine," Koushiro said.

"I could see those bags under your eyes from meters away," Takeru countered. Eimi snorted, then covered her mouth when Koushiro frowned at her.

"I slept about three hours..."

"Three!" Mimi cried. " _Yikes!_ I slept like ten hours last night. It's called beauty sleep, Koushiro-kun! If you keep looking this bad, Eimi-chan might leave you!"

Shock cleared some of the fuzziness from Koushiro's gaze. "W-what?" Part of Eimi wanted to deny the possibility, but another cheered Mimi on. She opted to wait and see how this might unfold.

"Yeah," Takeru agreed, nodding along. "Everyone knows that a sleep-deprived person makes for a bad partner."

Koushiro glanced from Eimi, wide-eyed and unsure, to Mimi and Takeru. "I look bad? But... I thought this outfit was alright. Is it too plain?"

"Your clothes are fine!" Mimi replied. "It's your _face_ that looks bad. You have rings around your eyes, like a raccoon!” Taichi broke into laughter, and Sora scowled at him.

"And you're all wobbly," Takeru added. "Like you're drunk."

"I'm not-!"

"Alright," Sora said, holding her hands out. "You've made your point. Koushiro-kun, they're just teasing you because they're worried."

Hikari smiled and stepped towards her brother. "Onii-chan, where should we look for distortions?"

Taichi grinned and gave Koushiro a smack on the back. "Thanks for these, Koushiro. Let's start over there..." He slung his arm over Koushiro’s shoulders, physically tugging him out of this conversation. Although Eimi was a little disappointed that her friends had cut Koushiro some slack, she couldn’t help smiling. The more people reinforcing her point, the better.

The group followed Taichi around Palette Town in search of distortions. Over time, Koushiro and Eimi migrated to the back of the pack. Eimi waited and slowed her pace, allowing the distance to grow, until they achieved something like privacy.

Koushiro's fingertips brushed her hand. "Do I look that bad?" he murmured.

"You don't look healthy," was Eimi's honest reply. "I thought I was the only worried person, but I guess not."

Koushiro's pointer fingertip briefly latched around hers. "I see..."

"Hey," Eimi said gently. "You worked hard on those goggles. Let's keep up with the others for now, and then we'll sleep. How are you holding up?"

"Um..." Koushiro checked on the others. They were all facing forward, away from the two of them. His hand curled around hers, soft and warm. "I'd like a coffee..."

"I'll keep an eye out. Let's catch up, okay?"

"Eimi? Thank you for worrying about me." He squeezed her hand, then released her. Slightly stunned, Eimi followed, and they rejoined the group.

They spent a while strolling, chatting while Taichi gazed about the shops, restaurants, and attractions of Palette Town like a disoriented tourist. After a while, Sora paused and said, "Isn't that Mochizuki-san?"

Eimi followed Sora's gaze and saw a dark-haired girl wearing a sweater and a long skirt. She had only seen Meiko once, so she waited for someone else to confirm.

"That's her!" Mimi cried. She jogged towards Meiko, waving and calling her. Meiko turned and colored as Mimi and Sora approached. Eimi froze, falling behind again. Mimi and Sora remembered the email, right? 

The rest of the group followed at a more sedate pace, and Eimi rejoined them. Although she was unsure about how to approach Meiko, she smiled, charmed by Mimi's friendliness. Sometimes, she wished she could be as open and bubbly as Mimi, or as warm and approachable as Sora. But she preferred to appreciate those traits in her friends instead, and love them all the more.

"What brings you out today?" Sora asked. "Is there someplace you're looking to go? We've all lived here for some time, if you need help."

"Um..." Meiko twirled a finger through a lock of long hair. "I, I'm sort of... looking for something."

"We're looking for something, too," Sora said. "Do you need help? What are you looking for?"

Meiko's gaze dropped even further, landing on the group's shoes. "It's... sort of a cat?"

Eimi tried to clear away her sudden frown. The only thing that description brought to mind was Tailmon. If Meiko had lost a digimon, then she was their unknown Chosen, after all. 

But Meiko’s odd words didn’t phase Mimi. She grabbed Meiko's hand and said, "Come with us! We'll all look together!"

 _Oh, boy._ Eimi swallowed a sigh. How were they supposed to discuss distortions and digimon around someone who wasn't Chosen- or maybe _was_ Chosen? Which situation was worse?

Still, Mimi and Sora had made up their minds, so Eimi remained silent. Sora and Mimi chatted with Meiko while the rest of the group hung back, focusing on their work. But over time, the group coalesced, and the vibe shifted to social. They ended up stopping for ice cream for the girls and Takeru, coffee for Koushiro, and ramen for Taichi, whose hunger was nearly as perpetual as Agumon’s. Afterward, Meiko thanked them for their help and left the group.

"She's really sweet," Mimi said. "Too bad we didn't find what she was looking for."

Eimi leaped on the opportunity to ask, "What's ‘sort of a cat,’ do you think?"

Hikari offered a confused frown. "The first thing I thought of was Tailmon..."

"Same," Taichi and Takeru chorused. 

Mimi shrugged, unworried. "Maybe she has some kind of weird pet. Or heck, maybe she _is_ Chosen, and we can have more backup! Is that Yamato-san?"

Takeru grinned. "Aniki!" he cried, waving. Sure enough, a blond figure was approaching. His irritated body language was recognizable from a distance.

"Good," Sora murmured. "I was getting worried..."

"These boys," Eimi sighed. 

Hikari giggled. "They do cause trouble...” Taichi tsked, but offered no comment.

Yamato came to a stop about a yard away from the group. He and Taichi briefly locked eyes and looked away.

 _Oh, boy..._ Somehow, Eimi was tempted to both laugh and cringe. Instead, she opted for diplomacy, but not without a touch of regret. "I'm glad you made it.”

Yamato shrugged. "Gabumon wanted me to. He's in the Safe House now."

Eimi brightened. "Takeru, you taught him the name!"

"It suits," Takeru replied. "Aniki, Koushiro-san made those goggles for Taichi-san. They can see distortions forming. We were just saying that we need to get up high to see more of Odaiba at once."

"Ah." Yamato turned and tilted his head up, facing the Daikanransha, which was stationed beside Palette Town’s main shopping and entertainment center.

The Chosen advanced towards the Daikanransha, and Eimi’s troubled heart lightened with each step. Her hand moved towards Koushiro’s. When their fingers touched, she looked at him and found a fond smile. Heat rose to Eimi's cheeks, and she grinned at the sidewalk, unable to maintain eye contact.

Their first kiss happened on the Daikanransha on Koushiro's fifteenth birthday. It was a special memory shared just between them; not even Tentomon and Galemon knew. Even under wildly different circumstances, returning felt warm and sweet. 

They approached the ferris wheel, and those familiar red handrails appeared. The group lined up at the ramp to the loading area, casually chatting. Or, at least, it looked that way at a glance... But Eimi knew enough about Takeru and Mimi to be wary when they started whispering a few steps away from everyone else.

Eimi caught Koushiro’s gaze and tilted her head towards Mimi and Takeru. His eyes widened as he soaked in the visual. He shrugged, then shook his head, indicating that he wasn't foolish enough to ask. Eimi nodded in agreement. She fought a ridiculous urge to salute when Sora joined them, while Hikari ran interference with Taichi and Yamato.

Soon, it was their turn to load. Eimi stepped into the cabin and scooted to the window, and Koushiro sat beside her. The others filled in, until only Taichi and Yamato remained outside.

Moving as one, Sora and Mimi grabbed the door handle and slammed it shut. Taichi and Yamato stared, eyes wide and panicked.

"What the hell!" Taichi cried. "Are you kidding me?"

There were no words to describe the sheer glee that soared in Eimi’s chest. "Poetry," she whispered. "Sheer poetry." Koushiro hid his laughter behind a hand, but his shaking shoulders gave him away.

"Have _fuuuuuuun!_ " Mimi sang.

"You suck!" Taichi snapped. Mimi blew a kiss. The cabin rocked, swayed, and rose, and soon, Taichi and Yamato were below them, out of sight.

"I assume you're hoping they'll talk things out," Koushiro said. 

Sora allowed a rueful smile. "I know it's heavy-handed, but they're ridiculous."

Takeru shrugged. "You know how it is with those two."

Hikari craned her neck, straining for a view below. "I hope they make up... We all need to be on the same page."

The truth of that statement was like a face full of water, sobering away Eimi’s smile. Swallowing a sigh, she leaned back into the seat. "Do you think they'll remember to use the goggles?"

Takeru blinked, then frowned. "Uh, oops."

"It's probably fine," Sora said. "We haven't seen much distortion activity today, right?"

Koushiro's brow furrowed with thinking lines. "Hmm... Well, I do have the program on my laptop. It will send a text alert to my phone if a large data mass appears."

Eimi flinched so hard that her knee smashed into Koushiro's. "What! You mean you _didn't_ have to stay up all night making those goggles? And why did we spend all day walking around, then?!"

Koushiro cast a desperate look around the cabin. "Ah, w-well..."

Sora sighed and lifted a hand. "Sorry, Eimi-chan. It's my fault. Koushiro-kun mentioned the goggle idea, and I thought it might encourage Taichi to... Well, to..."

"To lead again." A gruesome headache took root, and Eimi cradled her forehead. Yelling at Sora just... wasn't done. Sora looked so concerned, so apologetic, and Eimi knew that she always had good intentions. But still...

"I know we rely on Taichi, but...” Eimi sighed, then turned to gaze through the cabin glass. Apartment mansions stretched out as far as she could see, yielding to the bay, and then starting again on the opposite shore. How many people lived in them? How many lives were subject to the Chosen’s reaction to infected digimon? 

The mouth of her ghostly reflection thinned into a grim line. “Leading needs to be his choice. I've always regretted the pressure he carries, even though I rely on him, too. Giving him a pair of goggles with distortion viewing tech... I thought it was pragmatic, but... Don't you think it’s a little manipulative to emphasize how he used to lead?"

An awkward, heavy silence filled the cabin, and Eimi's hands curled around her knees. Why did she have to say things like this? Just a moment ago, everyone was having fun. Now the atmosphere had weight, almost had texture, like swirling fog. Most of the kids were staring anywhere but at each other.

"You might be right," Sora murmured. "But... If we can't face whatever is happening..."

"I meant to be helpful," Koushiro said.

"We want to cheer Onii-chan up," Hikari added.

"I know," Eimi sighed. "I'm sorry. I just... don't know what's right anymore." And, as the bearer of the crest of integrity, that worried her.

Mimi flapped a hand back and forth. "You've over-thinking it, like always! We're all here to help each other however we can!" Mimi grinned and took Eimi's hand in both of hers. "You should talk to Taichi-san. It seems like you might understand what he's thinking."

Takeru chuckled. "Maybe over-thinking runs in the family." Hikari dug her elbow into his side, but his laughing volume only rose. 

A sudden, urgent beeping filled the cabin, and Koushiro twisted so he could access his pocket. "Pardon me." He extracted his cell phone, checked his messages, then grabbed the backpack between his feet. He pulled out his laptop while trying to flip open his phone.

"Koushiro-kun?" Mimi asked. His head snapped up.

"Ah! Pardon me- Eimi, call Taichi-san, please. My mobile just alarmed me of a data spike."

"What!" Takeru cried. "A distortion?"

Koushiro handed off his phone and focused on his laptop. "I'm afraid so."

Sora looked out her window and paled. "But we're stranded up here! Will they even let us off the ride?"

Nausea gripped Eimi's stomach. She selected Taichi's name from Koushiro's contacts, placed the call, and handed the phone back to Koushiro. He squished it between his cheek and shoulder and continued to type.

"Taichi-san, a distortion is forming! It's almost directly above us."

Shocked chatter sounded over the phone, and Eimi looked into Taichi's cabin. As she had predicted, the goggles were around his neck, unused. He snapped them on, gazed up, and recoiled.

A flash of light burst through the glass, and Eimi covered her eyes with one hand and grabbed Koushiro's arm with the other. "Koushiro-san, the digimon!" Hikari cried.

"They can't all fit in the cabin!" Sora replied.

"Don't bring them out until it's time to fight," Eimi said. "There's going to be a lot of panicked people running away. They might attack our partners, or report them."

"Crap," Takeru breathed.

The brightness faded, and Eimi uncovered an eye. There was a crater in the sky, outlined with angry red light. A black void filled the middle, flashing with purple lightning. 

"It's huge," Mimi whispered.

"Um, Koushiro?" Eimi asked. "Do you think the distortions are sized to admit whatever will pass through? Or do you think they just appear, and whatever can fit through goes through?"

A lump slid down Koushiro's throat as he swallowed. "Insufficient data. But... This data surge is larger by far than any other we've seen."

"Great," Takeru said. Hikari pointed to the crater, eyes wide with horror. Eimi squinted and thought she detected movement, shades of black shifting.

A gargantuan foot appeared, clad in black armor. Mimi gasped, covering her mouth with both hands. The sound of screaming registered, along with a piercing siren.

"Evacuation orders," Koushiro muttered. "With luck, the crowd will disperse by the time we're released. It will be difficult to reach the distortion fighting against them."

The pleasant music that accompanied a Daikanransha ride came to an abrupt halt. An emergency message played over the speakers, explaining that the ferris wheel would be emptied. It seemed to come from worlds away. Eimi watched more bits of armor materialize, stepping out of the rift like a demon emerging from hell. She tried to remind herself that digimon weren't the enemy, that the Kuwagamon were infected and unable to stop themselves from fighting. But even for a Chosen, the screaming and sirens made it difficult to feel sympathy for whatever was materializing.

"H-he helped us before," Hikari said. "Right?"

Takeru patted her hand. "R-right. Hey, maybe we can talk to it."

"What's it doing?" Koushiro asked, eyes riveted to his work.

Mimi pressed her hands and nose to the glass. "Um... Walking around?"

"He doesn’t seem to be attacking,” Sora said. Eimi craned her neck for a better angle, but the cabin lowered, cutting off her view. She tsked, and her foot bobbed against the floor. How long was this going to take?!

After what seemed like an eternity, their cabin docked in the loading area. Mimi burst out as soon as the attendants opened the door, followed by Sora. Eimi zipped Koushiro's backpack and threw it over his extended arm, hooking it over his head. He tried to look at his laptop and run, but Eimi grabbed his arm.

"You'll trip! Let's get there first!" 

The others were already outpacing them, so he nodded and closed his laptop. "Should we wait for Taichi-san and Yamato-san"? he asked over his shoulder.

A hysterical quality colored Eimi's voice as she gazed into the flashing void in the sky. "I think they'll be able to find us!"

On the street level, the sounds of panic were so much worse. Although the digimon was just walking, people screamed and cried. Eimi couldn't blame them; he was enormous, and a single careless footstep could cause casualties. The sirens wailed, tweaking her nerves. She tried to run, but the crowd moved against her, pushing her, elbowing her, desperate to move through her.

Distantly, Eimi recalled a line from a book. It pointed out that police and first responders were easy to spot; they were the only fools who moved _towards_ the disaster, not away. They went where duty demanded, and damn the cost.

Even as an elementary schooler, Eimi understood the danger of the Digital World and fighting digimon. But, back then, the weight of being Chosen hadn't fully registered. Mortality was a clearer concept now, and so were politics and responsibility.

In that moment, she dearly wanted to be a clueless civilian, free to run away. 

Regardless, she pressed on.

They caught up with the giant in black armor in the plaza in the heart of Palette Town. The ground vibrated with each of his steps, and the huge building seemed to groan. Freed from the press of the crowd, Koushiro halted and opened his laptop. The rest of the Chosen came to him, except Yamato and Taichi, who unloaded after them. "Stand back. I'm accessing the Safe House."

Eimi stood behind him, removing herself from the landing zone. The laptop display lit, and the light resolved into shapes bursting from the computer. The partner digimon assembled in front of them, gaping up at the huge digimon.

"It's enormous!" Gabumon said. 

"About the same size as Omegamon, don't you think?" Tentomon asked. Eimi blinked. Now that he mentioned it, this digimon did resemble Omegamon, although it didn't seem to be made of identifiable pieces of other digimon.

"We need to evolve!" Sora said. "If possible, we should herd it to a place with fewer people and buildings."

"On Odaiba?!" Takeru demanded. Eimi winced. He was right; there weren’t many convenient empty spaces in Tokyo to safely hold a digimon battle.

Still, their digimon separated and evolved to adult, except for Gomamon, Agumon, and Gabumon, who lacked access to their partners. Towards the end of the process, Koushiro said, "Apparently, that's Alphamon... An ultimate stage digimon." Eimi glanced at Koushiro’s digimon identification program. It didn’t seem to be offering much information beyond Alphamon’s name.

"Ultimate?" Takeru grimaced. "Our digimon have had trouble going beyond adult since the distortions started..."

Koushiro scowled at his screen. "Worse yet, Alphamon seems to be stronger than the average ultimate digimon."

"Like Omegamon?" Hikari asked.

"I can't say for certain, but... Something like that, perhaps?"

"What should we do?" Sora asked. "Our digimon could get hurt..."

Koushiro tore his eyes from the screen long enough to cast a strained expression at the group. "If possible, we we should wait for Taichi-san and Yamato-san before engaging."

Eimi watched Alphamon walk its slow, measured pace. "This doesn't make sense..."

Koushiro's head jerked towards her. "Eimi?"

"Well... The Kuwagamon attacked everything they saw, remember? I... don't think Alphamon is infected. He’s just walking and looking down. I'm sure he must have noticed us evolving, but he's not engaging."

"Looking down?" Hikari repeated. "Like... looking for something?"

Eimi lifted her hands in a helpless gesture. "I don't know. But that's my guess."

A high-pitched, human shriek cut Eimi off. As one, the Chosen and the digimon surged forward. "Didn't they hear the evacuation sirens?!" Takeru shouted.

They ran further into the plaza in time to see Alphamon cornering Meiko. The blaster on his outstretched arm lit green, growing darker as the energy beam powered up. Mimi screamed something unintelligible. Most of Eimi’s brain was frozen in fear, but a sliver wondered... What was Meiko doing here? Why hadn’t she evacuated?

"Move!" Takeru screamed. " _Run!_ "

Yamato burst into the opposite side of the plaza, close to where Meiko knelt on the ground. Eimi cried out, trying to warn Yamato that Alphamon was preparing to attack, despite the fact that Yamato clearly already saw it. Yamato dove towards Meiko, pushed her down, and rolled over the plaza’s stone flooring. Alphamon’s energy beam sizzled the air where Meiko was just kneeling.

When Meiko sat up, Eimi saw an orange, cat-like digimon in her arms… and the strip of disintegrated stones where the attack hit. "Move!" she shouted, but Yamato was already hauling Meiko away from Alphamon.

Alphamon lifted its hand, and an enormous sword materialized in its grip. The blade rose, gleaming in the sun, and the dark knight advanced on Meiko. Gabumon evolved, and Garurumon threw himself at Alphamon. The knight batted him away without breaking stride. Eimi pressed her hands to her pounding heart as the other adult level digimon surged into battle to protect Garurumon. 

"What can we do?" Eimi asked. "Mayumon can't stop an attack from him."

Koushiro stared past Yamato and Meiko, where Taichi stood, gazing up at Alphamon with anxious, uncertain eyes. "We only have one option."

Eimi couldn't hear Taichi or Yamato from across the courtyard, but Yamato was clearly arguing, more at Taichi than with him. He paused long enough to say something to Meiko, who ran off with the cat digimon in her arms.

Alphamon plucked Birdramon from the sky and tossed her aside. Gasping, Eimi directed orders to Mayumon, who caught Birdramon with a shield before she splattered into the Daikanransha. With the path cleared, Alphamon pressed ahead, moving out of the plaza. The digimon tried to fight him, but he flicked them away like gnats. 

_He's not fighting them_ , Eimi realized. The Kuwagamon had seemed battle-crazed, but Alphamon treated their digimon like annoyances. It almost seemed like he had a route in mind, and his only concern was walking it. Anything that got in the way was simply nudged aside.

A nagging voice told her that something was strange, but she didn't have time to analyze. The Chosen moved across the plaza, hanging back from Alphamon. "Where is he going?" Sora asked. "What if he goes straight _through_ buildings, instead of walking around?"

After what seemed like tense back-and-forth between Taichi and Yamato, Greymon and Garurumon merged into Omegamon. Alphamon and Omegamon stared each other down, giants standing over Palette Town. The two knights engaged, and the ground trembled with the impact. Eimi grabbed Koushiro's arm, partly for balance, and partly out of fear.

Clearly, they couldn't leave Alphamon alone. He could destroy the whole city if he wanted to. But what would happen when Omegamon attacked? What if he missed and blew away a residential area? She pictured a leveled part of the city, a smoking wreck of steel and concrete.

The world sizzled and shrieked as the knights fought. Everything was searing heat from energy attacks and hellish noises as buildings and pavement disintegrated. There was no point in Mayumon trying to mitigate the damage to the city from so strong a clash, so she shielded the Chosen, protecting them from debris. But Taichi, Yamato, and Meiko were too far away to cover, and somehow, Eimi's roaring pulse was louder than everything else.

"Eimi," Koushiro gasped. She could barely hear him right beside her, but the tug on her arm made her turn. He was staring at his display, so Eimi looked and saw a massive influx of color against a black background.

"A distortion?" she shouted. Koushiro pointed to where it was forming, and the sky unzipped in front of his shaking finger with a sound like thunder mixed with roaring winds.

The void in the sky stretched, widened, groaned. Alphamon leaped into it, and the process went in reverse. A moment later, the sky was clear and blue.

Omegamon fell apart, leaving Koromon and Tsunomon on the tattered remnants of pavement. Yamato and Taichi moved to retrieve them, and Eimi and the others joined them.

"Is everyone alright?" Sora asked. "Where's Mochizuki-san?"

Meiko emerged from around the corner of a building, holding that strange cat digimon. Mimi ran towards her and grabbed her hand. "Are you okay?!" she cried. "Your glasses are broken..."

Meiko offered a shy smile. "We're fine. Meicoomon, say thank you to our friends for protecting you."

It was probably rude, but Eimi stared at Meicoomon. Her fur was orange and cream, with lots of black markings. Cute tufts of hair protruded from her huge ears. A ruff of fur encircled her neck. Long extensions hung from her shoulder blades, covered with black markings and ending in helices, matching her long, wide tail.

But somehow, her enormous green eyes were the oddest part of her appearance. Her pupils were shaped like crosses, giving Eimi the impression that Meicoomon was targeting everything she looked at. Overall, there was a lot going on visually, all packed into a digimon no larger than Tailmon.

It also struck her that, in all of her time in the Digital World, she had never encountered a Meicoomon before. Was she unique, like Galemon? If so, how was she made?

"Who is that digimon?" Takeru asked, as if reading her mind.

Meiko lifted her hand, showing a digivice similar to Eimi's. But there was something odd about the display... Eimi leaned closer for a better look, but Meiko had already lowered it.

"Meicoomon is my partner," Meiko said. "Thank you so much for helping her."

She bowed, and Meicoomon dipped her head. "Dandan!"

"Dandan?" Hikari echoed. Meiko straightened, revealing coloring cheeks.

"Ah... I'm from Tottori. It's dialect for thank you."

"Aww!" Mimi cried. "That's so cute!"

 _So Meicoomon has spent a lot of time in Tottori?_ Eimi hoped no one noticed her distant behavior. Something felt naggingly wrong, and she didn't understand why she was approaching Meiko with so much suspicion. This confirmed that Meiko was the unknown Chosen, and yet… Well, it’s not like that was automatically a bad thing.

"I'm so glad to meet other Chosen," Meiko said. 

Mimi clapped her hands. "Oh my gosh, me too! Tell me all about Meicoomon!"

"Uh, Mimi-san?" Takeru said. "I think we had better... leave."

Eimi shook her head and focused on her surroundings. Although things could have gone so much worse, the plaza, Palette Town, and the street Alphamon went down were heavily damaged. 

"We don't want to be found here," Eimi said.

"If everyone is alright, then we had better split up," Sora said. "Everyone send a text when you get home safe."

Koushiro opened his laptop, and the digimon, minus Meicoomon, leaped through, entering the Safe House. Then, the group separated, vanishing just as the first responder vehicle sirens grew audible.

Eimi followed Koushiro in a daze, her head swimming with impressions. She couldn't shake the thought that a warning siren of her own was blaring...

 **Author's Note:** Sorry, I won't be able to draw until Nanowrimo is over, but I did find some photos of the real life Palette Town! 

I hope you enjoyed it, please let me know your thoughts! 


	7. Saikai: Culpability

**Tri: Integrity Lens**

_Saikai: Culpability_

Taichi sat at his bedroom desk, staring at a piece of paper. It was a future plans worksheet, something overdue to his homeroom teacher, Nishijima.

Agumon rolled along his bed, back and forth, back and forth. "Taaaaa~iiiii~chiiiii," he groaned. "What's taking so looong?"

"Wish I knew," Taichi sighed, tossing his pencil down. "This is already overdue..."

"Just write something?" Agumon suggested. A humorless smile touched Taichi's face. Daigo had already suggested doing just that, which didn't strike Taichi as model teaching. 

There was a knock on his bedroom door, and Taichi was oddly compelled to hide the worksheet under a textbook. He swiveled his chair towards the portal, fighting to relax his tense shoulders. The door opened an inch, and a sweet, lilting voice floated into the room. "Taichi?"

Taichi frowned. What was Eimi doing here? "Yeah?" he grunted.

Eimi stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. Her eyebrow rose, likely in response to his oh-so-gracious greeting. "Hi to you, too."

His head tipped to the side as he scowled. "What's up?"

Eimi sat on the bed. Agumon rolled across it, until he thumped against Eimi's thigh. The skepticism on her face shifted, and Taichi looked away as warmth filled her eyes. He felt prickly and awkward when she offered her heart for everyone to see. 

"How are you, Agumon?" Eimi asked, oblivious to Taichi’s discomfort. "All rested up?"

"Yeah! I feel great." Agumon plopped his head on her lap, and Eimi stroked his scaly skin. Agumon’s eyes drifted shut, until suddenly, his nostrils twitched. He sat up so fast that he nearly headbutted Eimi's face. "I smell cookies!"

Eimi blinked, likely dazed by her near miss. "Er- I baked cookies for you and Taichi."

Agumon leaped on her, throwing his arms over her shoulders. Laughing, Eimi hugged him, pulling him in. Taichi turned around to hide his grin. As much as Eimi loved Galemon and Tentomon, their body shapes made it difficult to cuddle them, something Eimi was eager to do with all the digimon.

"What's the occasion?" Taichi asked. 

Eimi slid Agumon off her lap and bent to retrieve her purse. Agumon shoved his head in as she tried to open it, and she nudged him aside. "Well, Omegamon saved our butts. I'm going to visit Yamato and Gabumon after. But, also..."

She paused long enough to extract a container of cookies and open it. "One for now,” she said to Agumon. He opened his mouth, and Eimi placed it directly on his tongue, reaching past sheering teeth without thought.

Then she stood and approached Taichi. For some reason, he had the urge to back away. He loved Eimi, he really did. Growing up, she had visited his family frequently, until he came to see his cousin almost as a bonus sister. 

But somehow, Eimi always knew when he was upset. Most of the time, Taichi could convince his family and friends to let him sulk in peace, but Eimi... Well, it was hard to say no to someone who looked at you with so much of her bleeding heart in her eyes.

Eimi placed the cookie container on his desk. "How are you doing, Taichi?"

Taichi knew she wouldn't take a hint if he pretended not to understand, but he had to try, if only for the sake of his dignity. "Fine. No injuries."

Eimi clicked her tongue. "Good, but not what I meant."

Taichi felt his chin tensing, his lower lip jutting out. "What _do_ you mean?" he challenged, refusing to make this easy.

Eimi crossed her arms. "Eat a cookie. You're too sour."

Taichi snorted, but reached for a cookie. They smelled amazing, like butter, sugar, and chocolate. He grinned despite himself when the sweet, full flavor lit his taste buds.

"You're worried," Eimi said.

Taichi shrugged, knowing that he likely wasn't achieving the nonchalance he desired. "It would be crazy if I weren't."

He half expected Eimi to tease him or groan at the misdirection, but she nodded. "True."

Taichi's eyebrows rose, but he didn't risk a comment. Eimi watched his face for a few beats, then sighed. "There's so much on my mind," she said. "Iori and the others, most of all. Stars, I wish I could talk to Iori... I want to know if he's thinking the same thing I am. I need to know if he's okay- if they’re all okay."

Something seized and twisted in Taichi’s gut. "I really hope we can trust the Bureau." What else could he say? Daisuke and the others were a constant ache, like a piece of glass lodged further into his foot every step. But he couldn't afford to focus on it, not with distortions vomiting ultimate level digimon in Tokyo paired with zero leads on Daisuke's whereabouts. 

He was growing more aware, just a little, day by day, that pushing back this kind of worry would kick him in the ass later. The need to do something for them was a slow-burning hysteria, and it would eventually scorch his brain, or at least devour all its oxygen. But what the hell was he supposed to do? Not even Koushiro could find them.

"I try to tell myself that we can," Eimi said slowly. "Just so I can get through the day. But... I also need to be prepared, in case we can't."

"Yeah..." Even though he often felt stupid, Taichi knew he wasn't, not really. He could see challenges ahead and try to plan for them. But Eimi had a knack for reading people and situations, an intuition honed by a lifetime of sensing when her parents’ moods turned unpalatable, so she could escape or mitigate damage. Taichi knew she'd have her senses and instincts on high alert. "Do you have any ideas about all of this?"

Eimi frowned. "I've been writing reports after every incident. I have a big board in my room, too. I'm trying to see everything, you know?"

"Reports?" Taichi echoed. "Doesn't Koushiro have that covered?"

"He can't be everywhere," Eimi replied, somewhat sharply. "He's focusing on the digital side of things, but there's a lot more going on right now than anyone can see on a screen."

A twinge of guilt had Taichi looking away, breaking eye contact. "Koushiro's probably been working nonstop since this started… Take care of him, okay?"

A long pause followed, and Taichi looked up. Eimi's expression was complicated, but what really stood out was her closed off body language: crossed arms, a slight tilt away from him, shoulders tensed and raised. "I do try," she muttered. "But he doesn't listen. You should tell him to take it easy, too."

"Eimi is working hard, too!" Agumon said. Taichi and Eimi flinched in tandem; they were so caught up in their drama that they had forgotten him.

Taichi swallowed a sigh. Eimi did a lot of background work that no one saw, like compiling data into reports for Koushiro to review and summarizing his findings for others. On top of that, she took care of Koushiro and the office, including hosting visitors- although recently, Tentomon was helping with that. If Koushiro was tired, Eimi was tired, but somehow, no one picked up on that as readily.

"You're right, Agumon,” Taichi said, forcing his eyes to stay on Eimi’s. “Take care of yourself. Let someone know if you need help."

Bit by bit, Eimi's tight body language relaxed. She offered a small, strained smile. "I'll try, but you need to do the same."

His heart thumped, but he forced a laugh. "Whatever. Can I see your reports?"

"Umm..." Stressed furrows lined Eimi's forehead. "Actually... I'm not sure if anyone except Koushiro should see them."

Taichi’s elbow slid off the edge of his desk. Why would Eimi, so professional and eager to help, deny him reports on a situation he was living through? He whirled his chair towards her for a better view, then substituted an affronted, _Excuse you!,_ for a softened, "What? _Why?_ "

Eimi cupped her cheek. Her fingertips dug into her skin, leaving red spots that quickly faded. "I... kind of hate how I feel, lately."

A jolt of panic rushed down Taichi’s spine. It was rare for Eimi to approach people with a personal problem, and he wanted to encourage her. On the other hand, he had no damned idea what to tell her. 

"Uh." Taichi grabbed a cookie and held it out to her. "Here. Let's sit?"

Eimi grinned faintly. Charitably, she didn't comment on being offered a cookie she had made. They both sat on Taichi's bed, with Agumon nuzzled in between them.

Eimi nibbled the cookie, her eyes set on some far-off nothing. "I... just feel so suspicious of… _everything_."

"You're always careful," Taichi said. He reached over Agumon to grasp her shoulder. "It's saved our butts lots of times."

Eimi shrugged. "The thing is... I don't trust the Bureau. And somehow, I'm already uncomfortable with Mochizuki-san. That’s why… I don’t want other people to be distrustful, so maybe you shouldn’t read my reports? But… We all need to be careful, so maybe… But I don’t want to bias people against a new Chosen for no concrete reason…"

Taichi edged back, walloped by shock. True, Eimi was cautious, but she wasn’t cold or unwelcoming, not without reason. "Why? She's a kid who received her digimon some time after we did. We met tons of them when we traveled around the world with Imperialdramon."

"I really, _really_ want to think that," Eimi murmured. "But... She moved here _exactly_ when all of this started. And somehow, it seemed like Alphamon was following her? Or maybe Meicoomon. Alphamon mostly ignored us, but tried to attack them. After that attack, Koushiro and I reached out to her using the student directory. We invited her to the office to talk- most Chosen are excited to meet other Chosen, and they have questions. And honestly, we hoped she might have information about distortions and the infection. But… She never responded.”

Taichi hesitated, unsure how to proceed. "Well... She did just move here. Maybe she doesn't have time?” 

Eimi stared at her interlocked hands. “Maybe… But I also wonder… Although all footage of it has been removed since, our fight with Diablomon was live on the internet. Plus, there’s Takeru’s blog and the web of connections that leads back to Koushiro. What took Mochizuki-san so long to reach out to Chosen? Was it just a coincidence that we met her at all?"

Somehow, Taichi managed to scratch his head through its impressive barrier of hair. “She said she’s from Tottori, right? It’s even less populated there than Shimane. Remember how Yamato and Takeru couldn’t find a computer connected to the internet in Shimane to fight Diablomon?" 

Although that logic seemed sound, Taichi knew that, if he were a Chosen without a team, he'd leap at any chance to meet other Chosen and learn more about digimon. As much as Taichi hated to admit it, now that Eimi mentioned it… Something _did_ seem off about Meiko’s behavior, no matter how charitably he approached the situation. 

And, more pressingly, he knew that Eimi's hunches were often right.

“That might have been true a few years ago, but now? Now, I’d be shocked if Mochizuki-san doesn’t have a cell phone. The internet’s not a luxury anymore; it’s a utility.”

Eimi sighed, then offered the rest of her cookie to Agumon. "I like that I'm cautious," she began, smiling as Agumon made happy chomping sounds. "Like you said, it can be helpful. But I don't want to be someone who suspects everyone. Mochizuki-san seemed nice. Nishijima-sensei does, too. So why... Why do I always feel like my back is to a wall?"

 _I know what you mean._ Taichi was maddeningly familiar with the sensation of feeling trapped, unable to escape circumstances he hadn’t chosen or created, caught with no easy path forward. However, he currently viewed the distortion problem as situational, something that had simply happened and had to be dealt with. Eimi seemed to be looking for causes, for forces pushing it into existence. 

Taichi trusted that her goal was to prevent problems, not to place blame. Unfortunately, those two concepts often looked identical on the surface.

"Because we’re not in control?" Taichi guessed. "But… You’re not alone. If you feel like you're in danger, call someone. If you need to talk, call someone. Call me."

“Y-yeah…”

Taichi scowled. Eimi’s hunched shoulders and downcast gaze seemed to indicate guilt, or at least unhappiness. He forced a smile and clasped her shoulder again. “Hey, don’t beat yourself up. You should trust yourself. We all trust you.”

Eimi looked up and blinked. A slow smile formed, and Taichi’s grin mellowed in response. "You know... I think you should trust yourself, too."

Taichi couldn't help it; he tsked and looked away. He didn't bother asking for clarification.

Although there was no one to overhear them, Eimi's volume dropped. "It's scary, right? I know we've been in awful situations before. I know the stakes have been incredibly high. But when I see a digimon like Alphamon in Tokyo… I know that a second of bad luck could have such awful consequences. Consequences that we’d be responsible for, even though we intended to help."

And, like it was nothing, Eimi hooked the fears sulking in the depths of his mind and reeled them to the surface, where they writhed and gasped, shocked by their sudden exposure. Taichi stared back, affronted that she had forced him into a vulnerable position… But comforted that she understood. 

"Yeah,” he grunted. After a long pause, she brushed his knee. Sighing, Taichi drooped forward and rubbed the back of his neck. “I dunno, it's like Yamato doesn't get it. Back then, in the Digital World, he was usually saying that _I_ had to be more careful, or more considerate. Now he thinks I'm being too cautious, but he _knows_ that a digimon battle in Tokyo could easily kill people."

"He knows,” Eimi agreed. “But he also knows that failure to fight aggressive digimon will _absolutely_ cause deaths."

"We're the only ones who can do it," Taichi muttered, regurgitating Yamato's irate words. 

"Hmm..." Eimi stroked Agumon’s head for a while, absently smiling as he leaned into it. "Yamato's not wrong. There are more Chosen these days, but I think we're the only ones who can evolve our digimon past adult. And you and Yamato can form Omegamon... The rest of us can't hit ultimate, let alone something beyond that. But the power we have..."

She broke off with a frustrated sound. "I understand Yamato’s perspective, but... What's that phrase? Might makes right? We do have the power to face these threats, and we want to protect everyone. But those good intentions can never absolve us from the consequences of our choices. If something bad happens as a result of using our power, we’re responsible for that. On the other hand, if we decide _not_ to use our power out of fear... Well, that reflects on us, too."

Taichi flinched. He had been so focused on avoiding causing causalities that he hadn't considered that. "You're saying... Not using our power... we would be responsible for that, too?"

"Yeah, that's basically Yamato's argument. People sometimes seem to think that stepping back, whether in the form of staying neutral, ignoring a problem, or hesitating, absolves them of responsibility. Truthfully, choosing not to act _is_ a choice, and we are as culpable for that as we are for choosing to act. So, Yamato is right... But then, so are you."

Taichi's hand tried to curl around Agumon and pull him in, but he fought the impulse. Agumon saw himself as Taichi’s protector, but on earth, Taichi had to protect him. And that meant knowing when to ask him to fight, and when to stay out of things. "We can't _both_ be right." 

Agumon looked up at him, concerned, but Eimi offered a wry grin. "Of course you can. If you're looking for a clear answer, a single, 'correct' path forward... It doesn't exist. All we can do is try our best and adapt to whatever happens."

Taichi fought the urge to leap to his feet and pace. "This is fate-of-the-world stuff! We can't just wing it!"

"I didn't say that. It's good that you're thinking, weighing. While I think Yamato is right, I wonder... Is he oversimplifying what's happening so he can take action more freely?"

"He's smart," Taichi admitted. "He knows it's dangerous. He knows the risks. He just... keeps pushing, anyway."

Eimi offered no comment. Taichi watched her from the corner of his eye. Eimi was the Child of Integrity, a girl who had once lost her ability to evolve Galemon because she broke a promise. "You really don't know what's right? I thought that was, like... your thing."

A surprised laugh popped out of her, along with a fleck of spittle. Wincing, Taichi wiped his face. "Sorry!" Eimi cried. "I just- You mean the integrity thing? Integrity is more about a personal code of ethics. In practice, most choices are gray, not black and white. Like I said, I can't point you to the... one true path."

"Then what do I do?!" he cried. 

Despite the heavy subject, Eimi seemed to brighten, and her back straightened. Taichi flattened a grin as he realized that Eimi enjoyed being approached as an expert on something. Normally, she supported Koushiro, who received the team’s recognition and questions. The urge to smile vanished as he considered that. 

"If you're focusing on integrity,” Eimi said, “then you have to take a look at what matters to you. I know you; you want to protect everyone. You want the humans to be safe, and our digimon, and even the digimon we're fighting."

Taichi grunted, unsure of how to respond to her praise. Agumon nuzzled into him. "She's right."

"But you also know that this is a delicate situation, and there's a lot at stake. Right now, I think that... Rather than grappling with the ethics of fighting when we could easily do unintended damage, you should strategize. We need to be prepared to fight in ways that reduce damage to the city. Maybe some of our digimon have attacks with lower chances of spill damage. Maybe some of our digimon could guard the perimeter of battles. Meanwhile, Koushiro will focus on figuring out the distortions and the infection, and I'll try to figure out what's going on with the Bureau and Mochizuki-san."

Taichi clasped his hands so hard that his knuckles whitened. "I know you're right," he said. "I just... Are you sure we can figure all of that out? Will that even help?"

"I can't make promises about whether it will work. I just know that I feel better when I prepare and cover my bases. As for whether you can do it... I know you can. But if you need help, I suggest you ask for it. You have a team."

"Yeah, Taichi!" Agumon cried. "I know everyone wants to help. And everyone believes in you!"

Taichi faltered, unsure of how to respond. He knew that Eimi's advice was good, even as he struggled to process it. But he couldn't work past the nagging sense that she had left him behind somewhere.

"That's really mature," he said at last. Unbidden, he pictured a younger Eimi from their Digital World adventures in 1999. That Eimi followed close behind Taichi and Koushiro, desperate for the comfort and safety of their shadows. 

The teenage girl in front of him now was freely dispensing advice, trying to pull him out of the whirlpool of his mind, kicking and struggling against both of their weight.

"You think?" Eimi asked. She sounded nonchalant, but the corners of her mouth twitched up. "I guess I can't take credit, though. I learned it from my therapist. You know, decreasing anxiety by identifying what I can do about a situation and letting go of what I can't change."

 _Ah, shit._ He wished he could keep looking her in the eye, but Taichi glanced away. "You're still in therapy?" _It_ _’s been, what, three years?_

Eimi started therapy shortly after returning to Japan from the states. She needed help following the assault, but really, her upbringing and their time in the Digital World had created more than enough trauma before that... Which probably explained her wry smile.

"Yes. I'll be going for a while, still."

"How are the self defense classes?" Taichi asked, mostly to nope the hell away from the other subject.

"Hmm..." Eimi shrugged. "I wish I had time to take them more regularly. The good news is that there’s a gym for the renters in our office building, so I go often, even if it’s just for twenty minutes. The lessons are great, but being stronger makes me feel better."

“There’s a _gym_ in there?!” Taichi exclaimed. Who _were_ these people hiring Koushiro and Eimi?! Koushiro had mentioned a contact in America, but both he and Eimi vagued their way around details. "Can I join you sometime? I’d love to blow off some steam."

“Sure! Boxing is great for that," Eimi agreed. "I'd love to go with you."

Taichi inched back. Was it his imagination, or was she a little _too_ eager? “Er- You’re not gonna deck me, are you?”

“Ha! Tempting… but no.”

He grinned, but quickly sobered. A silence formed, thick and heavy. Desperate for escape, Taichi said, “Don’t you still have to visit Yamato?”

“Oh!” Eimi bounced to her feet and grabbed her purse. “You’re right! I’ll head out.” She bent to drop a kiss on top of Agumon’s head. “Don’t eat all the cookies today. You’ll get a tummy ache.”

Agumon’s “ _Taichi!_ ” was whiny and plaintive. Long experience told Taichi that the cookie battle would be long and arduous, so he took the valiant option of ignoring it for now.

“See ya. Thanks for the cookies.” 

“No problem. I’m dropping some off with Hikari, too- don’t eat them, Agumon. Bye bye!” 

When Eimi left his bedroom, Taichi sighed and fell onto his bed. Agumon’s snout appeared, hovering over his face. “What’s wrong, Taichi?”

Taichi groaned and rubbed the inside of his wrists against his eyes. “She never lets me get away with anything.” Eimi’s advice had only the best intentions, he knew. But it was difficult to have someone force her way in and hold him up to the highest standards, even if she offered support to help him get there... _Especially_ when he trusted her so much in return, and wanted to live up to her expectations.

The way Agumon’s head tipped suggested that he didn’t quite understand. “Eimi loves you. She brought us cookies!”

Sighing, Taichi hauled himself into a sitting position. “I _guess_...”

Then he imagined Eimi throwing that love in Yamato’s unwilling face… and grinned.

 **Author** **’s Notes:** And there we have it, the last installment of _Saikai_! I have 22,000 words written already for _Ketsui_ , but it’s not finished. This story is on temporary hiatus while I work on completing the _Ketsui_ content. However, there will be a single update on January, 17th, since I always update on my birthday, so please look forward to that!

So the Yamato/Taichi conflict in the early stages of Tri was that Yamato wanted to act- he accused Taichi of “just running away” when Taichi was hesitant to fight out of concern for killing humans in digimon battles. So, according to Yamato, hesitating is “running away,” avoiding taking action and avoiding culpability. According to Eimi, deciding not to take action _is_ an action that the actor is culpable for. Poor Taichi, lol! Actually, poor Chosen in general!

I hope you will look forward to _Ketsui_! Now that everything is set up, things will pick up, and we’ll see my first major divergence from the Tri plot. It’s related to the strained human/digimon political relationship, which of course throws the Chosen into the middle of everything. And I’m excited to sprinkle some Hiroaki in, plus a conversation between Meiko and Eimi as Eimi struggles to gather intel from the newest Chosen.

I’ve put so much love and effort into _Saikai_. If you enjoyed it, please do let me know! I’ll see you before too long! I’m wishing you all the best in 2021.


	8. Ketsui: Let's Shop!

**Note:** This chapter is my nod to what I call Trishiro. If you think Koushiro isn’t acting 100% like the Koushiro I’ve been writing, that is why! It’s just for this chapter only.

**Tri: Integrity Lens**

****

_Ketsui: Let_ _’s Shop!_

Koushiro trailed a step behind Eimi, Mimi, and Takeru, trying to buoy his mood. True, he wanted to learn about style and find his, whatever that entailed. But choosing clothing from his screen was so much more comfortable, especially with Mimi and Takeru shooting excited glances at him, as if in anticipation of a show.

Takeru, being voted the most knowledgeable of menswear, chose the first store. Koushiro wondered if it would contain nothing but hats, and was relieved to find a fairly normal-looking selection of clothing inside. A young, male employee approached, dressed too punk for Koushiro's tastes. Still, the man looked good, and Koushiro’s eyes darted to Eimi, gauging her reaction to his outfit.

But she simply greeted the employee and shifted focus to the wares. "Hmm... Shopping for someone else really is different. Does anything catch your eye, Koushiro?"

"Uh." Truthfully, Koushiro was too keyed up to look at the clothes. The employee stepped closer, and Koushiro stepped back, walking into a rack. He jumped as the hangers clattered by his ear.

"Are you looking for anything in particular?" the man asked.

"Um." Koushiro's eyes flicked to Eimi, who smiled encouragingly. "Er- N-no."

Taking mercy on him, Eimi said, "We're browsing, for now. Can I let you know if we need help?"

"You got it!" he replied. Koushiro watched him go, heading towards the cash register in the back of the store. The next breath came a little more easily.

Takeru clapped a hand to his shoulder. "You okay?"

A rush of shame replaced Koushiro's anxiety. "Yes," he sighed, pretending to look at the clothing. "I apologize for... I don't know why I freeze up like that."

"It's totally okay!" Mimi said. "I have a few friends like that. I don't get it, but it's pretty common."

"That's true," Eimi said. "Lots of people feel anxious when talking to strangers. But we're here to help, so let's take a look."

Eimi approached the nearest shelf and unfolded a pair of pants, holding them out. They were forest green and featured an abundance of pockets. "The pockets seem useful, and I like the color, but... I dunno, do you think they’re bulky?"

"Totally," Takeru said. "Aniki might be able to pull them off, but they would wear Koushiro-san."

Eimi scowled. "Hey. We're here to be supportive."

Koushiro knew that Takeru wouldn't hurt his feelings on purpose, so he tried to ignore the sting of self-consciousness. Yamato was tall and well-built, with broad shoulders and slim hips. Koushiro was hardly taller than Eimi, and while his body shape had changed from a child’s to a teen's, he was still scrawny.

Eimi folded the pants and put them back. "Take a look, Koushiro." Koushiro tried, he really did. But he found himself following Eimi, trailing a few steps behind, looking at whatever she selected. He felt more comfortable around her, and frankly, he was overwhelmed.

After a while, Mimi flounced towards him, her arms full of clothes. "Koushiro-kun! Do you like any of this?"

Takeru approached, laughing. "He can't see any of it! Let me help." He lifted a button down in warm, sunset orange from the pile. It felt familiar, but wasn't the point to try new things?

"Look!" Mimi cried. She poked the shirt's breast pocket. A row of tiny embroidered pineapples lined the top of the hem.

A dopey smile split Eimi's face. "Wow... I love it? It's nostalgic, but the shade is easy on the eyes... And the little pineapple detail is so cute!"

"Hmm..." Eimi clearly liked the shirt, so Koushiro would buy it, but he wanted to push his limits further. "I'll try it on. But... Is there something that's less plain?"

A wicked grin split Takeru's face. "So glad you asked. This way."

Mimi followed, still showing her selections. Koushiro chose a few to try on, guided more by Eimi's reaction than his own tastes, since nothing had caught his eye yet. He was approving a pastel purple button down when Takeru stopped beside a rack bursting with color, like a rainbow condensed into fabric. Koushiro blinked, his body's attempt to spare the oversaturated cones in his eyes.

"Um," Eimi began. "Takeru, we're not going on vacation."

Koushiro tentatively lifted a hanger and the attached shirt. It was a button down made of lightweight, soft material. "It seems comfortable," he said with approval.

"Er- well, yes," Eimi agreed. "It's sort of like... a lounge item. People wear them on vacation."

"Oh, yeah!" Mimi chirped. "They're popular in Hawaii, I always see them there. That's why there are so many colors and floral designs."

Koushiro placed the shirt back on the rack, quite missing Eimi's relieved expression, and the way it crumbled when he selected a different shirt. He held up a red button down covered with palm leaves and pineapples. 

"It's definitely not plain," Takeru said, his tone oddly delighted.

Koushiro examined the shirt and added it to the "try on" pile. "I think I like it.”

Mimi giggled. "Good! You could sure use a vacation.”

Koushiro lifted a fist to his chin. "Is that a requirement to wear these?"

"Nope," Takeru said, grinning. "I mean, they're selling them with all of the other clothes, right?"

Koushiro turned to Eimi to confirm and found a stiff smile. "I guess... that's true..."

Reassured, Koushiro selected another shirt. This one was black and decorated with pink flowers and orange goldfish. Eimi made a strange sound as he added it to the try pile. "Is something wrong?" Koushiro asked.

His girlfriend coughed, then cleared her throat. "Excuse me."

Koushiro nodded, then returned his attention to shopping.

**XXX**

Mimi and Eimi waited outside of the changing room while Takeru browsed and Koushiro tried on his impressive collection of items. His selections were eclectic, but they were united around a theme: everything Koushiro picked was gaudy.

Mimi had only just returned to Japan, but from pictures and the little she had seen in person so far, Eimi's tastes were as sophisticated as a high school freshman's could be. She seemed to prefer solid colors, and made statements with structure instead of pattern.

And she was quietly watching her boyfriend pick out Hawaiian shirts and button downs adorned with giant goldfish.

Mimi leaned into Eimi with a Cheshire cat grin. "How you doin', girl?"

Eimi modeled an impressive thousand yard stare. " _Goldfish_ , Mimi."

"I saw 'em!” It was probably rude to giggle, but how could she help it?

Eimi held her hands up helplessly. "It's not just me, right? That shirt's an abomination."

Mimi’s giggles graduated to full laughter, and she slapped a hand to her mouth to smother the sound. Truthfully, that kind of shirt was gaining momentum with male models and idols; in short, it could be charming on boys whose livelihood was pulling off avant garde looks.

Unfortunately, Koushiro was likely to look like a walking, on-fire fish tank.

"If you tell him you don't like something, I think he'd put it back," Mimi pointed out.

Eimi sighed and slumped against the wall. "I know. That's why I can't say anything. The whole point of this is for him to figure out his style and interact with the clerks. He shouldn't dress to please me."

"True," Mimi said. And she really did agree. As a friend, Mimi was proud of Koushiro for trying something new. And yet... Wasn't it a girlfriend's duty to prevent her guy from wrecking himself?

Footsteps from the hallway had both girls looking up. Koushiro stepped into the store area, holding his arms awkwardly out.

Mimi's manic smile was meant as a release, giving her just enough control to avoid falling into hysterics. She glanced at Eimi and watched a tiny piece of her soul visibly depart.

**_art by_ ** [ **_sluggybasson107 on Tumblr_ ** ](https://sluggybasson107.tumblr.com/post/640622632281194496/overalls-just-no-when-i-learned-it-was)

"Uh, um." Eimi cleared her throat a few times. "I think those might be work clothes? Like, for manual work."

Koushiro wore a utilitarian pair of overalls over a white shirt. Overalls were trending in women's clothing, but Mimi hadn't noticed it leaking into menswear. Frankly, Koushiro looked like he had taken a wrong turn and ended up in Tokyo instead of the farm.

"It's comfortable," Koushiro said, with a hesitant excitement that was too cute to deal with. "And it seems unique."

 _That's because no dudes wear that!_ Mimi's vision began to swim, obscured by a film of hysterical tears. _Why is that even in stock?!_

"D-do you like them?" Eimi asked. 

Koushiro's brow knit, his brain churning over clothes instead of data for the first time. "Um... I think so. Maybe I'll look again..."

Koushiro turned around, and the girls were silent until they heard a door close beyond the wall. "Oh, my god," Mimi whispered.

"I have to tell him," Eimi whispered back. "I have to, right? Like, morally obligated?"

"What if he pairs them with the goldfish shirt?" Mimi asked. What little color Eimi had to spare drained, leaving her looking ill.

"I'll say something," Eimi declared, but her determination soon faded. “But… I don’t know. He’s overwhelmed, but happy… I think those overalls were his favorite thing so far.”

Mimi winced. “Yeah, I think so, too…” Eimi sighed, and Mimi stepped closer to strategize. There had to be a way to make all of her friends happy!

**XXX**

Koushiro stared into the mirror, unsure what to make of his outfit. Although they were a bit plain, he liked how easy the overalls were to wear, since they covered most of his body. Eimi said that about dresses, right? She didn't have to worry about pairing tops and bottoms when a dress covered both.

But he was vaguely aware of the country connotations. Eimi and Mimi hadn't offered opinions, so he decided to go ask.

He retraced his steps down the hall, passing other dressing room doors. When he poked his head through the entrance to the dressing area, he saw Mimi and Eimi caught in a whispered debate.

There was a twitchy, uncomfortable quality to Eimi's expression. "I still can’t figure out how to say it."

Mimi grabbed Eimi’s shoulders and leaned in, like American football players in a huddle. She swapped to English, which both girls spoke fluently, and lowered her voice. “I’ll grab him. You take the overalls off.”

Eimi’s dark brown eyes went wide. “M-Mimi- We’re in _public_ -”

“That’s why we’re speaking English!” Mimi flashed a dangerous grin, and her eyebrows bounced in a way that made Koushiro’s stomach bounce in tandem. “Oh, I see! You would rather we strip him in private!”

Koushiro's heart thudded painfully against his ribs. While he wasn’t fluent in English, he wasn’t far from it, and he understood _more than enough_. He hustled to his changing room, plopped against the wall, and focused on breathing. When he closed his eyes, he saw Eimi pressed against his front, her eyelids lowered, her cheeks flushed. Mimi appeared behind him, hands clapping his shoulders. Each girl undid one of the straps of his overalls...

And the vision imploded into an embarrassed black hole of shame and confusion. Koushiro shook his head roughly, fighting to clear out any remnants. Surely, the girls hadn't meant it that way when they said they wanted to strip him... But what else _could_ they mean?

After a while, he decided that he must have misunderstood something, or that Mimi was simply leaping on an easy opportunity to tease Eimi. He had no clue what the girls were talking about- and he wasn’t sure if he _wanted_ to know- but they certainly seemed interested in the overalls.

Koushiro undressed, placed the outfit in the 'buy' pile, and tried on the next one.

**XXX**

This wasn’t shaping into the fun, supportive experience Eimi had envisioned. She was still red and flustered from Mimi’s teasing, but at least she had dropped the topic of stripping. At this point, Eimi didn’t want to bring the overalls up again, but… What choice did she have? She couldn't relax until they were back on the shelf. So when Koushiro appeared in his next outfit, a neon yellow jersey and pants that unzipped into shorts, she attempted a casual inquiry.

"What about the overalls?” Eimi squinted, desperate to protect her eyes from a yellow so bright it made them water.

Was it her imagination, or was Koushiro coloring? "I, um, decided to buy them."

Mimi made a weird noise, most likely a repressed laugh. Eimi’s head was suddenly pounding. "Oh," she murmured, a quiet acknowledgment of defeat.

"What do you think of this?" Koushiro asked.

Mimi covered her eyes. "I don't know! I can't look at it!"

Koushiro's smile went rueful. "Yes, I was afraid of that. I thought it was eye-catching, but perhaps it's too bright."

Sensing an opening, Eimi added, "And I can't think of a situation where you'd have to unzip your pants into shorts."

"Really?" Koushiro asked. "I was thinking of sudden weather changes in the Digital World."

Mimi made another odd squeak. "There you go. Makes sense!"

Eimi shot Mimi an irritated look and found that her eyes were watering, too. Koushiro returned to the changing room, and Mimi dropped her head on Eimi's shoulder, muffling her laughter.

Eimi patted Mimi's back unenthusiastically as her friend shook with mirth. "Oh, my god!" Mimi gasped in English. "Your boyfriend is a disaster!"

"Mimi, those overalls," Eimi hissed. "What do I _do?!_ "

Mimi lifted her face enough to reveal a delighted, honey-brown eye. "Really? I thought the highlighter shirt was worse. At least he's putting that back."

Eimi grunted, unimpressed. Slowly, Mimi straightened, looking thoughtful. "You know... overalls actually are having a moment right now, at least for women. I have a really cute pair."

Eimi finally gave in and massaged her temples. "Everything looks great on you, but I'm not sure how that helps Koushiro."

Mimi clung to Eimi's shoulder while she laughed. "If we want to support him, I guess we can’t tell him what to buy or not buy. So let’s focus on what we can do… and go shopping for _you!_ ”

Eimi flinched. Although Mimi’s outfits were too much for Eimi’s tastes, she had amazing style, and she knew how to choose items that suited someone else. Her help with clothing was a generous and valuable offer, but their last shopping trip together was one of the most exhausting experiences in Eimi’s life… And she was a Chosen Child.

"Er- I appreciate your help before, when I came home to Odaiba from the states and hardly had any clothes. But I have plenty now."

"Sure," Mimi chirped. "But you need a pair of overalls to match Koushiro-kun and me."

"What." The objection slid out in a monotone, before Eimi could even react. Mimi clapped her hands and giggled. 

"Don't worry! They make really chic ones! And when Koushiro-kun is walking with two super cute girls, no one will notice how silly he looks. We can hit the town together!"

Eimi hesitated for an interval that likely bordered on rudeness. "Um... Are there really overalls that would look good on me?"

"You bet!" Mimi flashed a peace sign. "And tell you what... I'll scope out some menswear stores for Koushiro-kun. Ones that _don't_ carry Hawaiian shirts."

A tiny smile lightened Eimi's expression. This clothing situation had somehow exploded beyond ridiculous, but Mimi's enthusiasm was so familiar and comforting. "Thanks, Mimi-chan," she said. "I appreciate it."

Mimi caught her in a one-armed hug. "You got it, babe!"

 **XXX**

Takeru’s face-splitting grin hadn’t eased all day. He couldn’t recall the last time he had this much fun, but his cheeks ached, and so did his feet. 

The sun was setting on a full day of shopping. Everyone was weighed down with bags, and though they had all purchased something for themselves, most of it was Koushiro’s. Takeru wished he could come home with Koushiro to see his parents’ reaction to the sudden quadrupling of his wardrobe.

The last store they visited was supposed to be their final stop, but Mimi had insisted on one more. Although everyone looked exhausted, they didn’t have the energy to argue. He, Eimi, and Koushiro shuffled behind Mimi, not hearing a word of her happy chatter.

“This is the place!” Mimi stopped in front of a store and threw her arms up. Takeru blinked at the windows, which displayed mannequins in dresses.

“Mimi-san? This is a women’s store.”

“You got it!” Mimi chirped. “I found _juuuust_ the right thing for Eimi-chan with Koushiro-kun’s clothing program, and this place carries it! We won’t be long. Why don’t you wait out here?” She pointed to a bench stationed between this store and the next. The boys sat, limp with relief… Until the girls piled their bags on top of them.

“Oof,” Takeru groaned. His head fell back and landed on top of the bench’s back rest. When the girls walked out of earshot, he rolled towards Koushiro and said, “How you holding up?”

Koushiro often looked like his thoughts were far off. But right now, instead of giving the appearance of concentration, his eyes were bleary and unfocused, gazing into the void. He produced the politest grunt Takeru had ever heard. He laughed, then groaned at the effort it cost.

“Same,” he sighed. He tried to initiate a conversation, but Koushiro’s short, vague replies discouraged him. They fell into an exhausted, and deeply appreciated, silence.

He was in a light doze when a pair of shadows fell over him, blocking the orangey light of sunset. Blinking, he straightened, and nearly rubbed his eyes to be sure that he wasn’t dreaming.

Eimi had changed into a pair of overalls over an off-shoulder blouse with puffy sleeves. Unlike Koushiro, she didn’t look like she planned on exploring agricultural pursuits. The set was chic, and suited her. He grinned, soaking in Eimi’s embarrassed expression.

“I don’t see why I had to wear this out,” she muttered to Mimi. Mimi patted her shoulder and smirked.

“Because you look hot! Right, Koushiro-kun?”

To his immense credit, Koushiro remained composed, save for a slight increase in color on his face. “You look wonderful.” 

Eimi’s sweet smile was soothing and restoring, like a cool breeze. Mimi hugged Eimi’s shoulders and pressed a kiss to her cheek. “Yep! Next weekend, we’re all gonna go out together in our overalls!”

Takeru coughed, desperate to hide a laugh. _So that_ _’s their angle; they’re camouflaging Koushiro-san!_ With Mimi and Eimi surrounding him, looking adorable, people would be less likely to notice how awkward the overalls were on Koushiro. And with Koushiro’s focus on the girls, he was less likely to feel embarrassed about taking his new clothes on a test run.

With intense effort, Takeru shifted the strata of bags on his lap and hauled himself to his feet. “You’re a great friend, Mimi-san.”

“Naturally!” Mimi twirled a hip out and balanced her hand there. After a moment, her playfulness mellowed. Takeru blinked, unused to what looked liked wistfulness from Mimi. “And I missed everyone so much while I was in the states. I’m really glad we get to spend so much time together now.”

Eimi fixed Mimi with an intense gaze. From long experience, Takeru knew this indicated that Eimi was looking with more than her eyes, employing her instincts and empathy, often to shocking effect. There was no way to know for sure what she was thinking, but Takeru’s guess was that Eimi had assumed- _incorrectly_ \- that Mimi had too much fun at all times to miss her friends in Japan much while she was away. 

Slowly, Eimi’s expression softened. In a rare turn of events, she wound her arm through Mimi’s and tugged her close. “We missed you, too, Mimi-chan. Thanks for today.” Takeru grinned, charmed, and glad that his friends understood one another, despite their differences.

Eimi and Mimi remained arm-in-arm until their paths home diverged.

_**above art commissioned from[sepulchrate on Tumblr](https://sepulchrate.tumblr.com/)** _

**Author’s Note:**

It’s my birthday, and I’m celebrating as I always do: by sharing words and art!

And there you have it: my nod to Trishiro! I hope you found it fun and cute, even if this Kou strikes you as… a little different from the one I usually write (more oblivious, mostly).

This is the last update for _Tri: Integrity Lens_ for a while. I am switching to another story, [_Four Years_](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10838493/chapters/24058869), for a few months (note: I only have a few _Four Years_ chapters up on AO3, but there are [over 40 chapters available on FFN](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8800649/1/Four-Years)). _Tri: Integrity Lens_ will return when I finish the _Ketsui_ content! I hope you’ll look forward to it, and check out _Four Years_ in the meantime! Thanks for reading, and please do remember to review.


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